


Gone, But Not Forgotten

by Sophiriel



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 16:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10948401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophiriel/pseuds/Sophiriel
Summary: On a trip to a new country with his King, Ja'far comes across someone from his past he believed was long since dead. Who is this mysterious person and how will he and those around him react? Contains a country I made up (based on Arthurian England). Begins before the Magnostadt arc. Contains some foul language and possible torture. May also eventually contain one-sided SinJa.





	1. Déjà vu

He was hypnotised by her. Long silver hair flowing around as she struck her enemies down; her armour glistening in the sun every time she moved; her long sword moving around with deadly precision showing the ease attained from years experience. A loud clanging close by brought him back to his senses as the Sasan Knight protected his rear.

“Ja’far-dono, are you alright? It is unusual to see you distracted during a fight”.

“Sorry Spartos, it’s nothing, please go back to Sin”, Ja’far stated as he made to bring down two oncoming soldiers, slashing them with his blades.

“Err... Well, I would like to” Spartos stuttered out, “but, you see, he equipped Baal, and well, flew off. I didn’t have time to stop him” he said sheepishly, barely audible over the noise of the battle around them.

He could tell the young Knight was afraid he’d be blamed for this, for that idiot’s impulsiveness. Despite all his skill, he really did lack a lot of self-confidence.

 Almost distracted again, Ja’far sighed out deeply to calm his anger, simultaneously decapitating a few more soldiers stupid enough to approach him.

“It’s not your fault Spartos, let’s just hurry and find him”.

 He let out another calming sigh, inwardly cursing his Kings utter stupidity. Why would he fly off on his own! They didn’t even need to be in this battle, yet another of that impulsive idiot’s decisions! He knew he should trust him, knew he probably had some sort of plan, more than likely to prove to the Kingdom they were hoping to visit that they would be better allied together, but still, that idiot!

The soldiers around them had thinned out enough for them to push on, and Spartos nodded in the direction he’d last seen the King go. As they moved off, careful to cover each other, Ja’far took one last glance at the silver haired girl, still gracefully manoeuvring herself around the battlefield, before heading off.

He had to admit to himself, whilst they quickly dispatched some more soldiers, that it was ironic that he of all people should be distracted by a girl, especially when he was always scolding Sin for doing just that, but he just had to know, could it be _her_?

He knew it was unlikely, knew she had died years ago, but he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he had seen that girl somewhere before. He’d been trying to catch sight of her eyes when he’d been brought back to reality, hoping that if he could just discern their colour, it might help settle his mind.

However, right now he had more pressing matters. They seemed to be heading further into the enemy lines and it occurred to Ja’far that Sin had, more than likely, gone after the leader of the enemy army, hoping to end the battle sooner and with minimal bloodshed. Though he doubted that was as easy as it seemed, this was Ren Kouen they were dealing with after all.

Luckily, the Kingdom of Mercia’s soldiers (or Knights, as some of them appeared to be), were clearly a force to be reckoned with, and were keeping up with the two Sindrian Generals. Or at least, that was what he had thought until he noticed them forming a line, cleanly keeping the crimson clad soldiers from Kou on one side.

It was too late that Ja’far noticed the large eight-pointed star shining out above the battle, and, he noticed in horror, pointed in the direction that he and Spartos were headed in. He barely had time to look round when a blindingly bright light was released. He felt himself losing consciousness; felt himself hit the ground, a clanking sound near him signalling Spartos’ fall too.

“Sin”, he mumbled as his last thoughts were of his King and hoping he was safe, before the darkness consumed him.


	2. Before the Battle

Sinbad sat smiling to himself, every so often glancing in the direction of his silver haired advisor. Ja’far was sat staring out of the carriage’s window, clearly frustrated and fidgety that he could not do any paperwork in his current environment, _although I bet he’s packed as much parchment and ink as he can,_ the King thought, quietly chuckling to himself.

This was a mistake, as those unimpressed dark green/grey eyes swivelled in his direction, fixing him with an icy stare.

“Something funny?” Ja’far asked, not a trace of a smile on his face. He had not been pleased with Sinbad since he had first been told he’d be accompanying him to this new country they were hoping would join their alliance; apparently feeling any of the other Generals could be there to protect him and that he had far too much paperwork to be getting on with. He had, however, after some negotiating, managed to convince his advisor he could bring as much paperwork with him as he wished, and that,  whilst on the ship at least, he would do his job properly for once.

“Oh come on Ja’far, smile”, Sinbad said, beaming in his direction, “Doesn’t this remind you of the old days? Us going off to new countries and forming alliances, it’s a new adventure, and I hear this country has quite a beautiful Princess!” Sinbad said happily.

“If it’s nostalgia you want you could have always brought Masrur with you”, Ja’far quipped back at him, still glaring out of the window, “and I’m not interested how beautiful their Princess is unless she can magically get paperwork done!”

“Awww Ja’far, how cruel, don’t you want to spend some time with me?” He whined, pulling Spartos into a one-armed hug, “Besides, you’ll damage your health if you work too much”.

“You think he should relax too, don’t you Spartos?” He smiled at the young Knight.

“Err...Well, maybe....I mean, it would be bad if you collapsed from over-working” Spartos managed to splutter out, then, looking over in Ja’far direction, hastily added, “ Ah, but if it’s what you enjoy then err...um, I........” he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

His other General had been determinedly staring out of the other window, clearly tense and trying desperately to stay out of this conversation. Sinbad had brought Spartos with him for two reasons. The first was that he was a Knight, and it seemed that this new country they were going to, Mercia, had a Knight system similar to Sasan’s. He was hoping that this showed how diverse and respectful towards other cultures both he and his alliance were.

The other was that he hoped to boost his friend’s confidence. Even in the palace of Sindria where he knew his young General felt comfortable, he would be mostly found reading by himself and seldom spoke to anyone other than the other Generals. Sinbad thought this was such a waste as he was only in his early twenties and didn’t want him to regret not doing more with his youth.

“Don’t bring Spartos into this Sin!” Ja’far scolded, “You’re clearly making him uncomfortable!”

Sinbad was about to say back that Spartos need not feel like that when he was in the company of friends when the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

“Wait here, I’ll see what the problem is”, Ja’far sighed as he exited the carriage.

Really, he wished he would just lighten up, _surely brooding over paperwork wasn’t going to make any difference, he could at least try to enjoy himself_ , Sinbad mused to himself. He was still thinking about this when the door was yanked back open and Ja’far reappeared, looking flustered.

“It’s Kou!”Ja’far exclaimed, “They’ve launched an attack on the Kingdom of Mercia!”

Sinbad launched himself out of the carriage, now clearly seeing the battle that was unfolding in the distance. How had he not known Kou were making a move?! Had Kougyoku been even slightly privy to the knowledge he would have known. Was this Al Tharmen blocking his channels? It’s not like he didn’t think they could manage something like that, but did that mean they knew about what he’d done to the Eighth Imperial Princess? But if they did, wouldn’t Kou know? And he was certain they wouldn’t have just let that slide by.

Thoughts whizzing through his head he wondered if Kou also knew they were there. _No_ , he reasoned, _if they knew we’d have had a welcoming party_. This gave Sinbad a thought, maybe he could take down Kouen before he even realised they were there. He could make a reasonable excuse; he was helping to protect a possible ally and member of the Seven Seas Alliance. Yes, that was surely bound to work as a valid reason, whilst he’d also get to take out a large threat to his own country.

“We’re going to help!” Sinbad announced to his two Generals.

“We’re going to HELP?!” Ja’far repeated incredulously, “Sin, we’re up against a WHOLE ARMY! How do you expect us to help?”

“What’s wrong Ja’far, don’t you have faith your abilities anymore? Or trust in your Kings decision?”

“Sin, you know I do, but what can we honestly do against an army like that? Besides” Ja’far glanced at the scene unfolding behind him, “The Mercian army seems to be doing a good job of repelling them”.

This was true, Mercia’s army clearly had better fighting prowess as they were pushing the Kou soldiers back. However, this just made Sinbad all the more determined. If the side they wished to help was already starting to win, it put his two Generals in less danger.

“Even better” He exclaimed to the other two, “However, do we know if Mercia has any metal vessel users? They’ll need help if Kouen appears”.

He knew Ja’far couldn’t dismiss this, knew he couldn’t just walk away now that there was a possibility lives could be wiped out in a single attack.

“Fine”, Ja’far sighed out, clearly unhappy with this turn of events, “But stay close Sin, it’s one thing to help out a potential ally, it’s another to leave your own country without its King!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sinbad glanced round to see how his Generals were faring and unexpectedly noticed Ja’far staring off into the distant battle, quickly following his gaze he noticed a fair haired maiden gliding effortlessly through the enemy ahead of her. _Oh_ , he mused to himself, turning back to deal with his own attackers, _and he tells ME to not let women get in the way of important situations_. This thought was gone almost as quickly as it had come. His eyes had landed on a tall crimson and black clad man, adrenaline surging though him at the sight, everything else around him becoming a hazy blur. _Ren Kouen, so he is here_. Sinbad had been hoping that the First Imperial Prince would be the one leading this army, but with Kou and their numerous dungeon conquerors it was never certain which one you might find.

The man was flanked by two “men” to his left, clearly assimilated household members, or at least for their sake he hoped that was what they were, to be born looking like that would be severely unfortunate. Especially for the pig like guy which left Sinbad wondering, if that was how the household had turned out what exactly did the Djinn Equip look like? The snake-like one was leaning around Kouen’s back to talk to another red-haired man, perhaps the least threatening person Sinbad had ever seen on a battlefield. He wore traditional Kou robes, but that looked just slightly too big on him, a tripping hazard in a fight, surely. Not that he appeared as if he would be much of an opponent anyway, unless he was planning on tickling his enemies to death with that ridiculous fan, Sinbad’s gaze shifted back to Kouen who had just rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Spartos, I’ll leave things here to the two of you”, the king announced without even glancing round, simultaneously equipping Baal and taking off. He wasn’t going to do this the chivalrous way. No, Sinbad never really cared for that unless he was being watched and needed to keep up an appearance, he was going to try and land a surprise attack and deal with this man as quickly as possible, especially as it seemed he may be about to get involved in this battle personally.

He thought he heard the Knight say something behind him but the noise of the surrounding battle made it hard to hear and before he knew it he’d closed the space between Ren Kouen and himself.

“Bararaq Saiqa”, A sharp crackling sound was the only indicator of what was about to happen before a ferocious pillar of electricity shot down out of the heavens, piecing the ground where Kouen and the rest of the army’s hierarchy had, seconds before, been standing. Sinbad floated just overhead, waiting for the blinding light to calm so that he could see the aftermath; however, it only seemed to be growing in intensity. 

The next few seconds seemed to last a lifetime. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the reappearance of the infuriating prince, a smug smile planted on his face, shifting to shock in what seemed to be in slow motion as his eyes left Sinbad and settled on something behind them, the anger in Sinbad changing with Kouen’s expression as he turned to see the release of the Extreme magic he had so stupidly failed to notice, _Ja’far really is going to kill me if we get through this_ , he thought as a blinding light was released over the battlefield. He felt dazed and lightheaded, barely managing to get to the ground safely, legs buckling under him, bringing him into a kneeling position, one hand resting on the ground to keep him from collapsing completely. A sudden onset of tiredness threatened to engulf him, but he managed to keep his eyes open, shaking his head to try and clear the feeling, and staggered back onto his feet where he managed to get a look at the situation.

In the distance he could see the edge of the Mercian army, their armour glinting the afternoon sun, a lone figure that had been flying above them coming down to land at the front, _I guess that solves the question of whether they have a metal vessel user._ Sprawled out on the ground between himself and the Mercians was the Kou army, not a single soul moving _Dead? Unconscious?_  Sinbad didn’t know, but he did know that the ability to wipe out an army in seconds was a frightening thought. _If this was released over Sindria we’d be powerless to do anything_ , his thoughts shifting to his Generals and wondering if any of them could block this. _Damn it!_ He thought, realisation suddenly hitting him. His Generals! Ja’far and Spartos had been behind him helping the Mercians, but they hadn’t known their strategy. Had they managed to notice in time? _Calm down_ , Sinbad thought, of course they would have, Ja’far was there, _But he seemed preoccupied_ , another breath out, Spartos was level headed enough to be aware of his surroundings, enough to make up for Ja’far’s strange behaviour, he hoped.

He was about to rush forward when the floor seemed to turn to black with a golden outline, and before he knew it the Kou army had vanished. He turned to see the Kou Princes retreating though something similar, _Damn it all!,_ Sinbad reprimanded himself, he really wasn’t paying attention today. He turned back to face the Mercian army, watching as a few made their way towards him, but there was no calling of his name, no appearance what-so-ever of his loyal advisor to begin telling him how reckless this had all been, and no shy Knight to try and keep the peace, an awful feeling bubbling up inside him, a combination of anger at himself for his stupidity, guilt for dragging his friends into this and fear at what might have happened to them.


	3. The Princess

_“Oni-chan, Oni-chan”_

“ _...._ ”

_“Oni-chan!”_

_There was a tugging at his side that he tried to ignore, a pair of emerald eyes staring up at him expectantly, yet her face seemed blurry, where was all of this light coming from? He tried to look closer, but her features seemed to be getting harder and harder to make out, still, he could tell she was smiling up at him._

_“Sorry, I’m busy”,_

_Yet still the tugging continued, getting stronger._

_“I said I’m busy”, he snapped, starting to become impatient. The light still seemed to be encroaching on his vision, just a pair of tiny hands left._

“Wake up!”

“....”, _Huh?_

“I said wake up!”

Ja’far opened his eyes, light streaming into them through a small, barred window in the top corner of the room he was in. _No, not a room, a cell,_ he thought to himself, realising now that what he had perceived as tugging had actually been kicking! No tiny hands, no beautiful emerald eyes to greet him, _of course not_ , he thought to himself, a pang of guilt and realisation hitting him, _she died._

He pushed himself into a sitting position, careful not to let his emotions show on his face, he didn’t want to give his guard any signs of a weakness that may be exploited. Looking up carefully, he truly noticed his captor for the first time, inwardly congratulating himself for his luck. The man standing in front of him was wearing the crimson of Kou, _no real surprise there_ , Ja’far thought to himself, but he was young, probably a new recruit or someone who hadn’t seen many (if any), battles. This clearly showed that they either weren’t aware of whom he was and what he was capable of, or they were seriously underestimating him. He sighed inwardly. It was true that he could handle this young guard, but that was where the problem lay, the guard was _young_! Once upon a time Ja’far would have thought nothing of who he killed, but now, now he just saw the similarities between this guard and the ones in Sindria’s Palace; eager to protect a country they were proud of without really knowing what they were getting themselves into. _Also, it would be rash to make a move before I even know where I am and how many others are around, and what about Spartos?_ He was ashamed to admit, but thanks to his weird dream, he had initially forgotten all about the poor Sasan Knight.

As the guard pushed some food towards him, a small bowl of rice and some water, he noticed his blades hanging on the wall just through the door. _Ah, good_ , he thought, some relief filling him as at least he knew where his household vessel was, making sure to quickly look away in case the guard decided to move them to somewhere more secure. He instead turned his attention to eating the bland rice that was in front of him and going through in his head what had transpired that day, sudden realisation hitting him that he had no idea how Sin was, or if he was there with them. The guards may not know what he was capable of, but he could be pretty certain that they’d be able to recognise his King. For now he would just have to try and gain as much information as possible, and maybe his youthful guard could prove to be a good starting point. So as the guard turned round to leave, Ja’far decided to try his luck.

“Could you possibly tell me where I am? I was travelling to Mercia to trade when I was caught up in a battle”, he questioned as politely as possible, choosing to adopt his King’s tactic of smiling as apparently no one would hit a smiling man. There was a slight pause whilst the guard seemed to contemplate answering him when there was a shout from outside his cell.

“What’s taking you so long?” came the call from a clearly more experienced guard. This one was older than he was and seemed to sport a set of lovely scars over his right eye.

“Ah, the prisoner was just asking where we were as he got caught up in the battle by accident”.

“Accident huh? You young’uns know nothin’. That’s Sindria’s garb that he’s got on. It’s a long way to ‘accidentally’ go. Fancy a little morning stroll across the sea did ya”?

Another inward sigh _and I was so close too,_ he thought as his guards exited without saying another word, the small _click_ signalling that his door had been locked. Still, it would take more than this little setback to keep Ja’far from his King and friends _I will find out where I am and what’s going on!_ Getting to his feet to try and peer out of his little window he managed to make out some of the view; thankfully it was still day _or was it the next day? Damn, I don’t even know how long I’ve been here!_ There wasn’t much to see, mainly grass and fields that went on for miles, a few horses tethered here or there, but there was what looked like the beginnings of new buildings in the Kou style, which at least gave some signal that this wasn’t the Kou Empire exactly, but a new area that, judging by the completeness of said buildings, was somewhere they had only just started colonising.

 

* * *

 

 

The Princess was, just as rumours had stated, incredibly beautiful. So much so, that had Sinbad not been inwardly panicking about the disappearance of two of his Generals he would definitely be trying to take some liberties here, although he certainly couldn’t shake the fact that she resembled a certain someone. The Princess in question, Princess Safiya Pendraeg, had long flowing silver hair that was currently partially tied up into a bun, with a small plait neatly edging said bun and a silver rose pin with a small ruby inlaid into the centre pushed into one side, the rest of her hair trailing neatly underneath, her face framed by a slightly grown out fringe that was parted to one side and a pair of gentling falling curls. She was fair skinned, more so than he could ever remember seeing, but not in a sickly way. The light seemed to reflect from her skin and hair radiating back and giving warmth to her appearance that made her seem like the beautiful moon in the evening sky, or at least this was what Sinbad seemed to liken her to in his mind. A dusting of little freckles danced across her nose, and above those, shining out like two twinkling emerald stars were her eyes, which, despite the situation, held warmth and gentleness, so much so he felt he could easily get swallowed up in their depths for hours without even noticing the time flowing by. And here lay the problem, as unbeknownst to him he had been staring at the Princess for a couple of minutes without saying a single thing, the only hint to him being the confusion slowly seeping into those eyes.

“King Sinbad?”

“....Ah! Sorry, I think I’m still feeling the effects of that magic from just now, Safiya-hime, I did not mean to stare”, _well, it’s partially true_ he reasoned with himself, he truly was still feeling slightly sleepy after whatever that light had been, though he would be more than happy to just stare at the Princess all day long, and somehow, the fact that she resembled Ja’far in certain ways made her presence comforting.

“Oh I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t realise you were over there! Although, if I have to be honest, I probably would still have released my Extreme Magic, that one only sends people to sleep, I hope you can excuse that”, and, to give her credit, she really did seem apologetic towards him, her eyes an open book to her emotions, and he felt he couldn’t let the uncertainty in them last any longer.

“You do not need to apologise, you were simply protecting your people, and I can find no fault with that. I’m actually quite impressed, you managed to deal with a whole army with just one move!” _and worried about making you into an enemy._ As if reading his mind she shone the most beautiful smile back at him which, he thought to himself, could light up the darkest corner of the darkest room, he defied even Rukh to stay black in her presence. Suddenly aware of his thoughts he couldn’t help but think that perhaps there was a hidden power to her Extreme Magic, as he couldn’t ever recall being this focused on one woman for so long, even with political reasoning.

“Why thank you, it means a lot to get praise from someone so experienced with Djinns. Ah, also, I should have done this first, Buer, release the spell please”. There was a faint light as the eight-pointed star on her metal vessel, the rose in her hair it transpired, glowed and then he felt his strength and senses coming back to him, _though_ , he mused, _the Princess still seems as beautiful to me as before_. His head clearing, he managed to focus on the most pressing point at hand, the location of his Generals.

“Safiya-hime, I believe I could enjoy conversing with you for hours, but I have to ask, have you, or any of your men, seen the two of my Generals that I had accompanying me? One could possibly have been mistaken for one of your own, Spartos, a Knight from Sasan. The other was wearing the official’s robes of my country and a green Keffiyeh; he is my Vizier, Ja’far”.  At this name he was pretty certain he saw a flash of recognition go across the Princess’ eyes.

“I see, Guin-chan, Elaine, please go and ask around and see if anyone has seen them. King Sinbad, would you like to accompany me back to our tents? I can understand you wanting to find your men; however, I don’t believe standing here will be of any benefit”.

Sinbad could tell that there was something slightly off about Safiya-hime ever since she had heard about the disappearance of Spartos and Ja’far, the light had gone from her eyes somewhat. Having only just met her he couldn’t quite tell if she was concerned about her role in their possible vanishing or if it related specifically to Ja’far, that look he had briefly caught a glimpse of intriguing him, not to mention the definite similarities between the two.

“Thank you hime, I believe I’ll take you up on that offer, but if you don’t mind me asking, is it possible you know Ja’far? I could be wrong but I thought I saw some recognition in your eyes when his name was mentioned”.

“Oh, I see...No, I doubt it though, it’s simply that he shares the same name as my older brother, but he was killed when we were younger. Hearing the name simply brought back memories”, the Princess stated and she let out a sigh, staring up at the sky as they made their way through the Mercian Army to the red and white tents to the back, turning round only when she noticed the King had stopped in his tracks.

“King Sinbad? Is something wrong? Has anything else happened?”

“Safiya-hime, I hope you don’t mind me asking about your past, but, you were adopted into the Pendraeg family, is that correct?”

“Ah, yes, it was surprising really, as I’m originally from Parthevia, but Queen Eigyr thought I was cute and apparently wouldn’t take no for an answer as they have no daughters. Why do you ask?”

Well that explained everything! Of course, if she really was Ja’far’s long lost younger sister (that he admittedly had never heard Ja’far speak of), he was definitely going to get killed if his thoughts from earlier came to light.

“May I ask one last question?”

“Why yes, I don’t mind”

“Does the name ‘Sham Lash’, mean anything to you?”

He didn’t even have to wait for a verbal reply to this, the shock and horror that went across her face made it clear she knew exactly who they were. No, not just shock, but, fear? If anything it was actually a similar response to the one Ja’far would have should he hear the name, and, although he had seen glimpses of Ja’far’s past, he had never ventured to ask exactly how bad things were there. Whilst contemplating this, Princess Safiya had walked up to him and dragged them into the nearest tent.

“How do you know that name?!” she said in a whisper barely audible. She clearly didn’t want to make this conversation public, and he couldn’t say he blamed her, if _that place_ was where she had to grow up.

“Judging by that reaction you know who I’m talking about, which means, if I’m right, the Ja’far I know is more than likely your older brother”.

 


	4. Revelations

When the day had started Sinbad had not imagined himself to be pinned up against a tent pole by a less that happy woman, with two of Generals missing and the distinct feeling he was under the effects of a Djinn. The day was definitely not going well; however, the latter would have to wait until later, if in fact he had a later, considering the look he was currently receiving. It was not for the first time he’d managed to annoy a woman to this extent, and probably wouldn’t be the last. With hindsight, naming a certain group of assassins to a potential ex-member without a bit more explaining on his part was probably not the wisest thing he’d ever done, however, this time he didn’t feel as though his actions warranted this response, random thoughts aside. During his brief, yet illuminating, conversation with the Princess Safiya, Sinbad had come to the conclusion that she may be related to Ja’far, his Vizier, best friend and ex-assassin, not occurring to him that she may also have a similar disposition when pushed, if his deductions turned out to be true. It was also obvious that, as far as Ja’far was concerned, she did not believe him in the slightest.

 “I didn’t ask you for lies about my brother; I asked you how you know _that_ name!” Safiya repeated venomously, still only a whisper, eyes narrowing dangerously as her grip tightened on the front of his clothes. She didn’t appear to be armed, minus her metal vessel, though he could surmise she probably had more on her than met the eye. Her other hand was resting on her side, her body pushing up against his to help hold him in place with her face inches away from his own, her right knee placed precariously between his legs, leaving Sinbad caught somewhere between fear and arousal.

“We had a... run in a while back, but I assure you Safiya-hime, I am not lying about your brother, Ja’far, I truly believe they’re the same person”, replied Sinbad calmly, whilst slowly raising his arm to place it around the one gripping his front, being careful to keep eye contact and not make any sudden movements, after all, he liked his arm, and his life.

“You don’t simply have a ‘run in’ with assassins, let alone find out the name of their group. How do I know you weren’t sent from them? It has been years since I left but I had a feeling they wouldn’t just let that slide”, pinning his arm down as she continued, “They don’t let those who know about them go so easily”.

“Safiya-hime, why would I, the _King_ of Sindria, have been sent here by assassins?” His patience was starting to wear thin; his fake smile no longer plastered on his face, instead an icy stare encroached on his features as his true emotions started to seep through.

“And how do I even know that you are who you say you are? You claim to have come with two of your Generals, but where are they? Conveniently out of the way it would seem, I mean seriously, what kind of an idiot would just jump into a battle with only two men? You expect me to believe that? I don’t think it’s beyond _their_ capabilities to disguise themselves as someone else, I’m sure Al Tharmen could even create a convincing Djinn equip if they had to”.

He had to admit, he had never really put much thought into whether Al Tharmen’s magicians could replicate the powers of a Djinn, after all, why bother taking Judal if that was the case. However, he could understand why she might think that way, but the biggest blow was being called an idiot by someone else. Yes, he already knew it, and she _was_ right, thinking back, what kind of an idiot really did just jump in without any idea of the militaristic tactics each side might be employing. Realising he might be losing this particular battle, Sinbad decided to switch to a tactic he rarely used now, complete honesty.

“Yes, I will admit, I can understand why you might think this way, if you’ll give me chance I will explain everyth-”

“Safiya-sama, we’ve found the Knight you were looking for”, one of the women she’d sent off previously, he couldn’t remember which one, came bounding through the tent opening followed, to his complete relief, by Spartos. He didn’t notice when she had moved away, but somewhere during the interruption, Princess Safiya had ended up on the other side of the tent, a perfect smile placed upon her face as if the previous conversation had never happened. It took Sinbad a second to realise that it was only Spartos that was entering.

“Oh, Elaine, thank you”

 “Spartos! I’m relieved to see you’re ok, is Ja’far with you?”

“I’m afraid not, I’m not sure what happened after the battle, I simply remember waking up in one of these tents”.

“Not a problem Safiya-sama, it seems some of our men saw the armour and thought he was one of our own. We have yet to find the other General you mentioned, but we’re still looking. I shall leave you and continue the search”.

“I see”, concern creasing his face as the woman left the tent, but he understood if he was to get any help from Mercia, he would need to clear up the misunderstanding first. “I was just informing Safiya-hime here of how we came to be caught up in the battle, and how it was my fault that both you and Ja’far were put in danger. I am sorry, Spartos, but I’m hoping with the Mercians help that we will locate Ja’far as soon as possible”, a tentative look towards Princess Safiya made a cold shudder run down his spine. Plastered across her face was the same smile he so often used to cover up his true emotions, yet some of the anger was clearly visible in her eyes.

“Please don’t feel you need to apologise to me, my King”, Spartos began whilst bowing in respect, “Whilst you tactic was...unusual, I don’t believe you would put us in danger on pur...pose” he trailed off, noticing the look on his Kings face as he faced Princess Safiya. Returning to his upright position as said Princess’ attention moved to him, _wasn’t she the girl Ja’far-dono was so interested in earlier?_

“It’s nice to meet you; I am Princess Safiya Pendraeg of Mercia, as the one who released my Extreme Magic without fully making sure I was only aiming at Kou, I apologise”, she offered a polite bow in his direction. “If you would be so kind, could you please explain how you came to be here?”

Noticing the slight pleading from his King, Spartos continued to explain the events of that day, from the carriage suddenly stopping, to them moving forward into the battle and King Sinbad’s reasoning behind the rash decision, and how both he and Ja’far realised too late what was happening, although he kept out the fact about the staring, _Ja’far-dono probably wouldn’t want that known_.

“So, _King_ Sinbad, it would appear that you have told me the truth up until now, so are you perhaps suggesting that your other General, Ja’far, is missing? Maybe even with the Kou Empire?” Princess Safiya piped up after the explanation, eerily calmly considering the glint in her eye.

“Ah, yes, it would seem that way, probably...”, he trailed off, the fear from earlier starting to creep back as the Princess’ smile grew wider, in a scary, maniacal way, _she might be scarier than Ja’far_ , Sinbad thought to himself, calculating the possibility of his death at this current moment.

“So then” still calmly, “you must also be suggesting that you’ve just lost my brother, who I haven’t seen for 16 years and who I believed to be dead, to an enemy that _will_ _kill him if they find out who he is_!?”

_Ahhhh, yep, I’m definitely going to die._

 

* * *

 

 

Night had fallen, the only light illuminating the small room came from the moon above, twinkling stars scattering the remainder of the sky with not a cloud in sight. It was a cold night, and the thin Sindrian robes didn’t do much to help block out the gentle breeze that came passing through the small window, but he had dealt with much worse than this.

In the distance he could pick out the glow of little fires sporadically lighting up the army camp/colony he was currently in, as the men huddled around them for warmth. Even from his cell Ja’far could tell that the mood outside was somewhat sombre, there was no laughter or revelry you would expect from the standard foot soldiers that comprise the majority of an army. They had made it out alive, but they had still lost, and not honourably in battle whilst giving it their all, they had, it would seem, been knocked out by an opponent that, in their eyes at least, hadn’t deemed them a big enough threat to completely annihilate. He’d heard some of the younger soldiers complaining about this earlier as they had walked past his miniature prison, debating if their skills really were good enough.

It was this hesitant and unsure attitude that Ja’far planned to use to his advantage. He could be pretty sure that sooner or later one of the Ren siblings (most likely Kouen) would give some encouraging speech to his men and rally up their spirits, all leaders did the same, and with this in mind if he was going to escape it would have to be now. As far as he knew, his blades were still hanging up just past his door, but his captors had failed to _really_ search him. As had become habit, Ja’far kept an arrangement of little blades, small picks and files etc. hidden upon his person, sewn into the hems of his attire should he ever find himself in a situation such as this. He had just started to work on getting a pick out of his sash when he heard footsteps coming closer down the corridor, quickly folding it back into place and feigning sleep as his cell door was opened.

“You, wake up! Come on, quickly, get up!” _Damn it!_ Ja’far thought as he was quite roughly kicked, he could tell by the voice that it was the older guard from earlier.

“Come on, Kouen-sama wants t’ see ya. Best not keep ‘im waiting”. _Brilliant_ he thought _this day just keeps getting better and better_.

 As he was lead down out of his cell and down a corridor he noted that his blades had been removed and were no longer in sight, inwardly cursing himself for not moving faster, he was careful not to let those emotions show on his face. Instead he opted to stay silent throughout his brief journey to where Ren Kouen was situated. It seems as though he was in one of the few buildings completely finished, and as with everything in the Kou Empire, his surroundings were all red. The room itself seemed to be a spacious office, with delicate woodwork screens separating a slightly more private area to the back. Kouen was sat in an intricately carved, high backed, campaign chair at an equally intricate matching desk, crimson hair and eyes just as described. Behind him stood a man holding a feather fan in front of his face, another pair of red eyes and hair a similar hue tied up messily into a ponytail _another Ren sibling presumably_. From intelligence he had gathered he could pretty much assume that this was Ren Koumei, the second Prince of Kou who possessed a great mind and a similar position to himself, _despite his looks apparently_ Ja’far noted smugly; he always took pride in being an ideally presented ambassador for his country and King.

“Thank you for bringing the prisoner to me, you may now leave”, Kouen said, his expression not changing from one of slight boredom. Bowing respectfully, the guards that had brought him before Kouen quickly left, leaving him alone and basically unarmed with two men that possessed metal vessels and would more than likely not hesitate to torture him for information _but I’ll never betray Sin to them!_

“It’s a pleasure to make you’re acquaintance Ren Kouen-sama, I am-”

“Oh, we know who you are, General from Sindria”, Kouen cut in, a slight smile apparent and a malicious glint to his eye

_Shit!_


	5. A Long Day

Sinbad had spent quite a lot of time tied to chairs due to various reasons, the most common being his inability to sit still for more than a couple of hours at a time without wanting to escape from the mountain of paperwork that came with being King. In all but one case it came down to a slightly flustered silver haired somebody with a knack for tying knots that no one but himself could untie, a skill needed with the likes of Sinbad and his annoyingly good luck that could seemingly get him out of most other attempts to keep him secured.

The one (and only) time Masrur had taken it upon himself to ‘help’ in the same way it had resulted in some of Ja’far’s ‘rope’ (honestly, even Sinbad didn’t know exactly what that stuff was made of) being snapped, along with two of the chairs legs and one of the Kings. Yamuraiha had fixed everything within a matter of hours, but it had taken weeks of coaxing to get Masrur to even come back into the Palace, let alone look in Sinbad’s direction, an event everyone had agreed did not need repeating.

However, Sinbad had made the mistake of thinking that this was only likely to happen in his own Kingdom, knowing Ja’far would never embarrass him like that in front others. Oh how wrong he had been, he realised upon incurring the not-so-wrongly placed wrath of Princess Safiya of Mercia, as he currently found himself tied to yet another chair. Unlike with Ja’far, whom at least attempted to give him _some_ comfort when tied up, Safiya had made absolutely no endeavour to do so, in fact, she may have put some effort into _not_ doing so.

He would be more annoyed at his current treatment, but it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d done something without thinking it completely through whilst visiting a new country, recalling his first visit to Artemyra with a shudder. He had also been assured by Safiya’s oldest adoptive brother, a Prince Arthur Pendraeg, first Prince of Mercia, (whose personal tent this also turned out to be), that she would, most likely, release him relatively quickly once she had had time to fully come to terms with the recent influx on information about her brother.

So in the meantime he was currently in the same tent he had been taken to the previous day, with only Spartos for company, who, unlike Sinbad, had been left to freely walk around the Mercian army’s camp site. Indeed, it appeared that Princess Safiya had taken quite well to Spartos and had been treating him kindly, even offering him comfortable sleeping accommodation, which, to his credit, he had declined in favour of staying with his King. Sinbad would be lying if he denied that he missed the nagging he received from his Vizier, but he also found Spartos’ quiet presence comforting in its own way, even if he couldn’t help but be reminded of his older brother, _why did they have to look so much alike_ he thought to himself.

He released a deep sigh as he let that day’s happenings wash over him. Despite all that needed to be done it would do him no good to dwell on what had already passed, deciding he might as well try and get some sleep, figuring that getting Ja’far back would be easier if he was rested. Thankfully, Safiya had left plenty of cushions around him (as she had thrown them at him), she had clearly been angry but he didn’t think she wasn’t heartless; Sinbad had got the impression she aimed them quite well. _They really are quite similar,_ he thought with a smile as he sunk into a nicely squishy one perched on his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Safiya had been pacing round the main camp for the last hour, a combination of anger, worry and embarrassment fuelling her need to be away from both her brother and Sinbad. However, for better or worse, she hadn’t decided yet, she couldn’t seem to shake her handmaids. Whilst they may have become friends, _best friends_ , if she was truly honest with herself, what she really wanted at the moment was to find a quiet place to vent and think, or at least try to. As a result, in her endeavour to find a quiet spot, she had somehow gone round in a big circle and found herself at the very place she had started at and wanted to be furthest from. Was this fate telling her to get the embarrassing apology out of the way? Safiya hated to admit that she had probably reacted a bit too extremely, tying a King to a chair and throwing things at him wasn’t the best way to nurture their country’s relations after all. _I should apologise to Aniue later too,_ she thought with a sigh, not that Arthur seemed to mind having to sleep with the main army.

Walking forward slowly, she pried the tent’s opening apart and entered.

“..........”

_He’s asleep! How is he asleep!? Why isn’t he at least trying to escape or racked with guilt over Ja’far-nii? I’m gonna kill him!!!_ She thought as a pair of hands dragged her back outside.

“Safy-chan, if you go in looking so scary you’ll just make things worse”, whispered Guinevere not unkindly.

“She’s right, Safiya, deep breaths” whispered Elaine to her left, a bright smile on her face to mimic the action she wanted from her princess.

“.......Fine”

Walking forward a second time, Safiya realised she’d completely overlooked the Sasan Knight in the corner, _he’s very quiet_ , she thought. _Uh, and he was there earlier when I lost it at King Sinbad,_ Safiya realised, now starting to wish a pit would just open up in the floor and swallow her whole. Standing up straight and gathering her composure, she prepared to wake them. Earlier was a blip, she’d represent Mercia better this time; after all, she owed her current life to the kindness of King Uthyr and Queen Eigyr.

“Ahem”

“.........”

“Ahem!” she coughed louder, Sinbad still didn’t stir, _I’m gonna bash him over the head at this rate! No, breathe in and relax_.

_“That’s right my Queen, nice and calm”_

_“Like hell she should be, let me zap him”_

_“Oh shut up Amy, you’re not helping”_

_*Sigh* and so it begins, I wish they wouldn’t argue in my head._

As she was thinking this she noticed the Knight, _Spartos_ , had moved from the corner. He was quiet; in fact that was one of the first things she’d really noticed about him, that and he was quite cute, a thought she quickly pushed aside as he was now standing, and bowing, in front of her.

“Princess Safiya” he said in a barely audible whisper.

“Ah, Spartos-san, I was hoping to speak to King Sinbad and...and apologise” _why am I whispering, I want to wake him._

“Oh, I see, you may need to be a little louder then, Princess. He, err, is quite the heavy sleeper. I’ve seen Ja’far-dono drag him out of bed only for him to still be sleeping whilst being dragged down the hallway”.

_“Let me zap him my Queen”_

“I’m not sure that will help Amy”, then seeing the confused look on Spartos’ face added, “Ah, one of my Djinn, Amy, wants to electrocute him awake”.

“ _Only gently”_

“Only gently, she adds”, though there was definitely a hint of something more mischievous there.

“Ah....I believe I’ve seen Ja’far-dono do that too”

_Oh, so Onii-san is as scary as ever_ , she thought with a smile, _though ‘-dono’, he must be respected too_.

“Let’s leave that as plan B for now, maybe he’ll wake up when I untie him”

A minute later he was released from his bindings, and still asleep. Thinking that letting Amy have her way was likely not going to help, Safiya decided to try prodding him awake, and he unquestionably stirred, though, whether through habit of being the notorious ‘Lady Killer of the Seven Seas’, or actually being semi-awake, Safiya found herself pulled onto his lap in a tight embrace and her breasts unceremoniously used as a pillow. Spartos, Guinevere and Elaine could only look on in horror as the shocked look on Safiya’s face became replaced by a murderous one, backing away as her killing intent filled the small area.

“Amy, zap him. Not gently”, was Safiya’s only scarily calm verbal response before a crackle and a flash of light signalled the appearance of quite a lot of electricity.

 

* * *

 

A short time later in another tent, Safiya having completely destroyed the previous one, Sinbad found himself finally being able to have a real conversation with Prince Arthur, who was at least, in a pretty good mood, living quarters aside. He struck Sinbad as the ‘always look on the bright side’ sort of guy, _living with Safiya he probably had no choice_ , he reasoned to himself. He had to admit, though, he didn’t mind her feistier side, however, he hoped the presence of her adoptive brother would calm her down slightly, and result in less pain on his end.

It had been decided that Ja’far was most certainly with the Kou Empire; all that was left was how to retrieve him.

“I’ll get him myself”

“Safiya-hime, I know that you’re strong, but I can’t allow you to go alone to an enemy camp. Allow me to-”

“I’m sorry, King Sinbad, but I don’t feel you have the skills that will be needed for infiltration”, she also wanted to add that his build wouldn’t help either, but didn’t want to admit she’d paid that much attention to his appearance.

“If I may, King Sinbad, but Safiya is most likely right that she can handle this herself”, interjected Arthur. Apparently he’d taken it upon himself to be the middle man in their conversation.

“As Arthur-Aniue says, so it is settled”, and turning to Arthur added “Aniue, I can meet you back home, I don’t plan to take long”.

“But-“

Safiya had already gone from his sight before he could even offer a counter-argument.

“She’s stubborn so any argument would be futile” Arthur pointed out, “However, as you are acquainted with her real brother, I would think you would know her particular set of skills well. I presume they undertook similar.... training. It’s getting late” he suddenly interjected, “you must be tired, please allow Elaine to lead you to a suitable sleeping spot, we will be leaving for Camaerleot in the morning. I wouldn’t worry too much, I image we’ll find both of them waiting for us upon arrival” he added with a reassuring smile.

_I hope he’s right_

 

* * *

  

The sound of keys clinking together and heavy boots hitting the floor with a rhythmic precision could be heard making its way down the long corridor, a faint dragging sound just audible over the top. All of a sudden it stopped, and a loud crashing echoed around as a door was thrown open to an empty room.

“Just throw ‘im in, he won’t be goin’ anywhere”

A heavy thud could be heard reverberating around the small room as another long bang signalled the closure of the door. The room’s now sole occupant lay barely conscious on the floor, blood dripping down from slightly parted lips. Torn clothes barely covering the innumerable wounds covering a pale body, the purple and yellowish hues of bruises beginning to make themselves visible on any remaining white. The floor slowly beginning to be dyed a red as all light swam before hazy eyes until darkness engulfed him.


	6. The Blood That Ties Us (Part 1)

_It was a day like any other. The wind gently caressed the grass and rustled leaves in nearby trees. Sun shone down, bathing the small village that was nestled into the mountainside, warm rays of light casting shadows here and there._

“Ja’far, why don’t you take your little sister outside for a bit?” asked the silver haired woman with a loving smile on her face.

“Oni-chan, Oni-chan!” chirped up said little sister, the love and affection for her brother radiating from her tiny body, face lit up with a smile. Little hands grabbed out in front of her, try to get him in her grasp as she tottered about, until they fixed around his clothes.

“Yes, that’s right Safiya, go with _Onii_ -chan” replied the mother with warmth, “go and make the most of your free time” she added, turning to smile at the older boy.

“Yes, Okaa-san!” _Free time?_ He thought, slightly confused as he lead the happy, smiling little girl out into the sun, having pried her fingers from his clothes and secured them between his own.

Stepping out into the sun from the cool shade of the place he called home, he made sure there were no small stones or sharp edges that his sister could hurt her feet on. He was used to the rough, dusty floor of the village now, and the way that, on some days, the floor was burning hot. Not that he really cared about his lack of shoes, he’d realised a while ago that his family didn’t have much in the way of material possessions, but his kind parents made up for that with the loving warmth they gave.

Ja’far also enjoyed the time he got to spend with his father. He’d show him how to use these strange blades on rope, but Ja’far enjoyed learning. He could use them to hunt in the forest and bring food back, he liked being able to help his parents like this, and they seemed to approve of his skill, giving him praise at any opportunity. Now he had his own little set of the blades, the kind village elder had given them to him, at least he assumed village elder, his father always called him “boss”.

Ja’far led Safiya to the outskirts of the village, to the spot he would practice with his father; there was a nice patch of grass growing in a small clearing that would feel pleasant under their bare feet. The grass went just far enough under the cover of the trees so that there was also a comfortable spot to just sit and relax; he would often have some food with his father there after hunting or training. Ja’far had never brought his sister here before, but recently his mother had been asking him to spend more and more time with her so today he thought he’d show her the pretty flowers that grew to one side.

“Here, Safiya”, He said with a smile, handing her some little purple ones from a group near a tree.

“Pretty, thank you Oni-chan!” she replied happily, sitting down out of the sun and twiddling them between her finger and thumb.

“ _Onii_ -chan, Safiya”

“Oni-chan?” she replied, cocking her to one side in cute confusion. Her eyes then shifted to somewhere above his head, “Pretty red one”.

Turning, Ja’far noticed she was pointing at a rose climbing up a nearby tree trunk. It was growing out of his reach, but he knew he could get it for her. Getting the blades and the rope in his hands like his father had shown him, he quickly managed to cut through the stem, and caught the falling rose, noticing too late the thorns that were also present. One large one stabbed into his palm, making it bleed.

“Blood, hurt?”

“Mmm, I’m ok, it’s just a little scratch, it’ll heal soon”, he replied positively, smiling to make sure she didn’t worry. Despite her young age, Safiya often seemed to be the one asking if he was alright. He considered this cute, but he also wanted to look after her, _just like a good big brother does_ , he thought, remembering back to what his mother had told him. Making sure he’d cut off all the remaining thorns, he handed her the rose, little hands adding it to her tiny bouquet.

They sat for a little longer, Ja’far intertwining some of the small purple flowers into his sister’s hair, and enjoyed the nice breeze that blew away some of the days heat until Safiya started to yawn. Getting up, Ja’far took her by the hand once more and led her back through the outskirts of the forest and into the village. As they came upon their home he noticed that there were some men outside with his father, one of them was the village elder. Noticing their approach, the group turned round to face them, he could now see the troubled look on his father’s face.

“Otou-san!” cried Safiya happily as she ran clumsily up to him, completely missing the mood, “Oni-chan get me flowers”.

“Oh, so he did, don’t they look pretty”, he replied as he bent down to give her a hug, “as do you, my precious little girl”, he added whilst holding her close. “Why don’t you go and show Okaa-san”.

“‘Kay”. As she ran off into the house, he turned to speak, “Ja’far-”

“No more interruptions, the boy is here now, it’s time he is tested”.

“I know! I know, but please, not my wife, I was the one who traine-”

“You know how this works, either both of his mentors or you all die!”

_Test? Mentors? Who’s going to die?_

The man who had been speaking, the elder, turned then to Ja’far, pinning him down with an intense gaze that sent shivers through his spine. Ja’far turned to his father, hoping for an explanation, but he simply looked away, anguish evident on his face.

“Ja’far, it is time you show us, Sham Lash, that you have what it takes to survive. Kill them, Ja’far! Kill your parents!”

“K-K-Kill? Why?”

“No! Not my wif-”

“Quiet! You will both die today one way or another. Boy, you heard, kill them now with your own two hands, or your _whole_ family will be disposed of”.

_Kill? My parents? N-No, no, no, I don’t want to. Why? I don’t want to!_

“Wait! Please, at least not in front of my daughter!”

“The girl will stay, she should see and understand”. Pushing his father aside, the man walked forward. Pulling one of Ja’far’s blades out, he forcibly placed it in his hands and encouraged him forwards with a shove.

“Kill them!”

“No...Please, I don’t want too”. Tears were starting to well up around his eyes, his heart pounded in his ears as adrenaline rushed through his body and he started to shake.

“Please, please, no”, he begged, trying to back away, but he couldn’t. The other men had started to form a blockade behind him. He couldn’t escape and neither could his family.

“This was inevitable. A child born into the organisation _must_ kill their mentors, their parents one day! If you want to stay in the organisation, if you want to live then show us your strength! Kill them Ja’far! KILL THEM!”

His father had backed up into the house, trying to shield his wife, Ja’far’s mother, behind himself in a futile attempt to save her. He couldn’t see Safiya, she must be there somewhere, but he couldn’t see her.

“Kill them, Ja’far”, more voices added into the verbal barrage, by now other members of the village had started to gather behind him. _Why? Why? Why can’t we just live happily? I don’t want to hurt them._ He still had the blade out in front of himself when the elder, the ‘boss’ pushed him forwards from behind. Stumbling he came to an abrupt halt as something warm and soft braced his fall. Hot liquid started to pour over his hands as he looked up to see his father, blade dug into his side.

“Otou-san?”

“That’s it Ja’far, keep going”, the boss encouraged.

“I-It’s ok, Ja’far”, his father added, as he pulled the blade from his side, he fell down on to one knee and angled it towards his chest. “Go for the quick kill, l-like I showed y-you when we hunted t-together”.

_Ja’far, make sure you aim for a vital spot when you hunt. You may have to kill, but that doesn’t mean they should suffer. Right?_

Tears streaked down his face as he recalled his father’s words. He knew what he had to do, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“It’s ok, Ja’far. L-Live”, his father managed to get out. As he looked up into his eyes for the last time he thought he’d see disgust or something akin to that, but he only saw acceptance of a fate that could not be escaped from, and perhaps pride.

Before he knew what he was doing he had pushed forward, the smile that had momentarily shone on his father’s face, gone, along with the remaining light in his eyes. More hot liquid spilled over his hands but this time he didn’t falter, barely registering his actions. The next few moments were a blur to him, almost as if his body was acting on its own; before his father’s body had even hit the floor he’d moved forward, towards his mother. Lunging at her swiftly as if he were chasing a wild deer he delivered a fatal blow, and before he even realised what he was doing his mother, too, lay dead on the floor.

He thought he heard someone speak as his senses returned, but wasn’t sure. The first thing he remembered clearly was the bloodied blade still firmly in his grasp, dropping it to the floor in horror. As he started to look away he then saw the blood of his parents beginning to mingle and form a pool, some channelling off into the cracks and flowing further away; away towards tiny, white feet.

Tiny feet! He still stood near the doorway and in the rush of the moment had forgotten everything, including his sister, who would, of course, still be in the house. Body still shaking from the experience and tears still at his eyes, he slowly raised his head until she came into view. Huddled towards one corner, the blood now collecting around her, soaking up through her dress; confused and frightened she sat, staring up at him. Her tiny bouquet scattered about in the pool, the rose appearing to melt into the red that now surrounded it.

He couldn’t look anymore, couldn’t be _there_ anymore! Ears barely registering the praise from the ‘boss’ behind him he ran, and ran, and kept on running, trying to get away from the scene. For a brief second he thought he heard a desperate call of “Onii-chan” behind him, but he didn’t turn round. He couldn’t. Blood dripped down his arms and his legs, leaving a trail of gory footprints in his wake.

As the adrenaline left him and the fatigue started to set in he slowed to a walk, the events that had just happened truly starting to sink in. Tears gushed down his face; he just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Okaa-san” he sobbed.

“Otou-san!”

 

* * *

 

Safiya was glad that she always carried a spare set of ‘assassins clothes’ around with her (a term her brothers had coined when trying to describe said garments). They could never understand why she had insisted that a set was made for her every time a new growth spurt appeared, but Safiya was determined to be prepared for days when an unexpected situation may occur.

Today was one of those days. Heading back into her personal tent she swiftly changed into the black and red of her previous uniform. One thing that did surprise her, though, was her reluctance to change the design or the colours; as it was, Safiya could have picked anything for this purpose that felt both comfortable and practical, but she had stuck with the Kou style. Upon being sent to Kou it turned out she was the first female their assassin’s guild had ever had (most females only being seen as breeding material for the next generation of unfortunate, tiny killers), and so, confused with what to give her to wear they had initially just put her in men’s clothes. Not that she honestly minded; regardless of which sex they were meant for they had been the best clothes she’d ever worn, that was, at least, until a little outside influence saw her in something more befitting.

In the end she had been given a knee length, black kimono, decorated with thin red trim; fitted sleeves that had a finger loop to keep them in position replaced the usual style. This was held together with a wide red sash that fastened with a black ribbon, which she had found over the years, to be a good place for keeping throwing knives. Underneath she wore a shorter, sleeveless wrap-around top, both for dignity and because it was a good place to conceal weapons (more knives). Instead of the added longer ‘skirt’ layer that the ladies of Kou wore, she had a simple pair of black trousers that were bound up in her (also black) shoes that she had customised to hold yet more knives, _because you could never have too many knives,_ in her opinion _._

Connected to the back of her belt and resting just on the lower part of her back were her two 10” daggers, her preferred weapons for close range combat; being adopted in a society with Knights she’d had to readjust her fighting style to match up with the Longsword she’d been given (a compromise as no form of combat was considered ‘ladylike’). To complete the ensemble she wrapped the familiar red wires around her arms. These blades weren’t often used in actual combat, however, not because she wasn’t competent with them, just that she had kept them more for the nostalgia than anything else. This particular pair had belonged to her brother, only having them still because she’d been practicing (ok, playing) with them on a certain day.  

Stepping outside Safiya was met with the dim light of a new day. The sun was yet to rise but the reddish purple hue of the coming light could be seen making its appearance over the distant horizon. There was a slight chill to the air, her breath coming out in little white puffs, and there was early morning dew covering the grass. The air was still; closing her eyes and breathing in deeply she let out a sigh as she got into the right frame of mind, blocking out any overly emotional feelings that may impede on her mission. Listening carefully to her surroundings she could hear the breathing of the men, slight bursts of snoring here and there, with intermittent, faint nickering from the horses tethered around, and a slight crackling from various smouldering fires that sporadically dotted the area.

Making her way carefully to the edge of the camp so as not to wake any of the sleeping men, she set off on her journey to the Kou colony. There was no guarantee that Ja’far was in that particular place, but even if he wasn’t it seemed the best starting point, after all, he was probably where Kouen was, and he should be easy enough to find.

_Wait for me, Onii-san_.


	7. The Blood That Ties Us (Part 2)

By the time Safiya arrived at the edge of the colony that had been set up on the Northern Tenzan Plateau, the sun had started to peek over the horizon. The little droplets of dew could be seen sparkling throughout the landscape and birds could be heard twittering somewhere in the distance; the few rays of light that were responsible adding a warmth as they splashed across her. The colony was still and mostly silent as its inhabitants slept, however, the sun rising meant she wouldn’t have long to get in and out. A sensible person may have waited until night fell again, but no way was she leaving her brother in the hands of these people any longer than was necessary, for once being glad that Kou’s Western Subjugation Army weren’t stationed that far from Mercia.

There were a few guards stationed around the ramparts and a few on the main entrance, but Safiya managed to slip pass them all, _this is child’s play,_ she thought with a mischievous smile; nothing ever quite matched up to the thrill that could be received from sneaking around somewhere you shouldn’t be. She gracefully made it over the perimeter wall and into the central part of the compound.

The colony was still small, but growing, and had been built in typical Kou style, however,  as the structure had gone up quickly, only the central buildings had so far been fortified with stone and hardwoods; it was there she expected to acquire any leads, _or Ja’far, preferably Ja’far_. Connecting the central buildings to those around them were covered passageways, currently simply constructed, but over time these too would be replaced with hardwood, elaborately carved and painted in the Kou colours.

Aesthetics were an intricate part of Kou style, so it was no surprise to see they had already started landscaping the area near the main building. Various blossoming trees had been planted in readiness for the arrival of spring, Safiya could make out Lychee, Jujube, Fig and Peach, _of course Peach,_ she thought, _I wonder if Judar had a say in this?_ She wondered, thinking back to the black-haired magi. There was also a scattering of Plum trees, which were already in the height of their blossoming, beautiful deep pink petals just starting to drift to the ground. The floral borders were made up of a combination of peony and hydrangea bushes, with a climbing variety of hydrangea already being encouraged to climb up one side and overhang a balcony, _the perfect place to get in_. To many this would just seem a beautiful and extravagant building, with equally beautiful scenery, to an assassin it was like heaven; lots of places to hide and plenty of places to climb.

Making it to the main building, Safiya was skirting round the edge with her back to the wall when she heard loud footsteps inside, accompanied by the clanking of keys; it sounded as though they were dragging something. Suddenly, there was a loud bang somewhere down to her right, it sounded as if a door had been thrown open and she could just make out a man speaking. Despite being a good way away she could clearly hear what he was saying in the stillness of the early morning:

 “Just throw ‘im in, he won’t be goin’ anywhere”

There was a loud thud as whatever, _or whoever,_ they had been dragging was thrown into the room on the other side of the wall. The door was thrown shut, with yet another bang that seemed to reverberate through the stone and her body. _‘He won’t be goin’ anywhere’, who won’t be going anywhere?_ She thought with a mixture of dread and anxiety. She carefully made her way down the side of the building through the cover of the bushes whilst keeping an eye out for any guards on patrol, reaching the spot that seemed to have been the source. At continuous intervals just a bit above her head height she noted small windows with bars, _these must be some kind of cells_ , she thought to herself, which also explained the clanking of keys she’d heard.

Somewhat luckily, there was a decent sized hydrangea placed near the corner of the building, so carefully and silently she made her way down to it, checking that there were no guards making their way up that side; thankfully the coast was clear. Stealthily approaching the window that was most likely linked to the room she wanted, she held the bars and braced herself against the wall with her feet, managing to peer into the dimly lit room.

The sight that met her eyes made her blood boil with rage. There, in the middle of the room was Ja’far; she’d recognise him anywhere no matter how long it had been. He was bruised from head to toe, splashes of purple and yellow standing out vividly against his pale skin. His clothes were torn and bloodied, the white of his robes becoming redder and redder with each passing second, she noted with horror, as he lay in a gradually increasing pool of blood.

“OSE!” she spat out in a venomous whisper.

 

* * *

 

_The day was warm and sunny. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the trees and across the grass of a small clearing where two silver haired siblings were enjoying each other’s company._

“Pretty red one”

 The little girl pointed to a spot above her brother, who quickly whipped out his blades and cut it down for her. Safiya loved spending time with her brother, he was caring and gentle and he treated her to things; one time he even managed to get an apple that they shared, though he gave her the bigger half. When the pretty red flower fell down, her brother caught it, but a sharp thorn stuck into his hand.

“Blood, hurt?” She wanted to convey more to this message, the rush of an emotion that made her want to heal it all away told her so, but she didn’t know how to put it.

“Mmm, I’m ok, it’s just a little scratch, it’ll heal soon”, the smile he gave made her think otherwise, but she let it go, preoccupied with the flower he’d just given her.

In the shade of the large oak trees that predominantly made up the forest around where they lived, she and her brother sat, enjoying the cool breeze that took away the days heat. Whist he entwined some of the little purple flowers surrounding them into her hair, she sat and twiddled her little bouquet between her fingers. After a while she felt the calming repetition of his hands in her hair cease, so she turned round and eyed him, round orbs of green, saying what needed to be conveyed.

“There’s enough in your hair, too many would look silly”

Taking this as a viable excuse, Safiya simply shuffled back onto her brother’s knee, where she was met with arms that enveloped her; she enjoyed sitting with him like this, feeling safe and loved in his embrace. Ja’far wouldn’t let her get hurt; he didn’t even let pebbles near her feet. Smiling contentedly she snuggled deeper into his shoulder, yawning slightly as a small wave of sleepiness washed over her.

“Tired?”, and then looking up at the sky he added, “it is getting late, let’s go home, Safiya”.

“‘Kay”, she replied. Ja’far took her hand in his and they walked back happily to their little village where she noted a group of men talking. Spotting her father amongst them she immediately ran up to him in her, still slightly, wobbly little way, arms out for a hug.

“Otou-san!” she called out, “Oni-chan get me flowers”.

“Oh, so he did, don’t they look pretty”, he replied as he bent down to give her a hug, “as do you, my precious little girl”, he added whilst holding her close. “Why don’t you go and show Okaa-san”.

“‘Kay”, she replied, eagerly going into the house.

“Okaa-san, Oni-chan get me flowers” she stated happily, oblivious to the happenings just past her front door.

“Oh, well wasn’t that nice of _Onii_ -chan”. Bending down to give her daughter a tight embrace, Safiya noted the look on her face, concern spreading through her as raised voices could now be heard from outside, but not really knowing what to say. She tried to turn to see what was happening but her mother kept her still in her arms, making sure she remained firmly facing the wall.

“Nee, Safiya”, her mother spoke into her hair, not releasing her from her hold, “no matter what happens, always stay with your brother, ‘kay? He loves you so remember to trust him”.

“‘Kay”

“And remember, Otou-san and Okaa-san love you dearly”, this was the last thing she would ever here from her mother, as she flung her into a corner. The voices and scuffling outside had become increasingly louder, and just as Safiya was about to get up, her brother came flying into the room. She saw a slight glint as something was aimed at her mother and then everything seemed to become silent. Both her parents lay on the floor and her brother stood motionless in the doorway, large men and members of the village standing just behind him.

“Oni-chan?”

He didn’t look up straight away, his wide-eyed gaze focused on the blade in his hands. Safiya felt something warm starting to creep up her legs and clothes; as she looked down all she could see was red; red liquid pooling around her, red seeping up her white tunic, red staining her hands. Her bouquet lay lost and forgotten out in the ever growing mass of red as tears started to well up in the corner of her eyes, though she wasn’t certain she knew why, just that something seemed to ache within her. Confused and slightly frightened, she looked up to see a look of horror on her brother’s face, briefly before he ran from the room.

“Onii-chan!” she tried calling out to him but he was gone, leaving her on the floor, unsure of what to do and if to move.

“Follow the boy”, she heard one of the men say.

“What should I do if he tries to run?”

“Bring him back with force, but I doubt it will be necessary”, he added, turning to stare at Safiya. She didn’t like the look he was giving her, it sent shivers down her spine and she wanted to be back in her brother’s arms where it was safe, “the girl is still here, I doubt he will abandon her”. She couldn’t see his mouth, it was covered by a cloth that started at the bridge of his nose, only revealing his eyes, but she could tell he was smiling and it seemed scary.

Her parents still lay on the floor, unnaturally still. Why weren’t they moving? Were they asleep? She couldn’t get her head round it.

“Okaa-san? Otou-san?”

“You parents are dead, little girl. You should get used to this concept; death will be surrounding you from now on”.

“D-Dead?” She didn’t really understand what he meant, but was now shaking uncontrollably. It felt as though the temperature had plummeted and she felt cold for some reason, and numb inside, “don’t understand, scratch heal soon”, was all she could get out.

“Tch, foolish thing. They’re dead. Dead means that they will _never_ come back, they are gone forever”.

Safiya understood these terms, even if the factors and consequences surrounding the word ‘death’ didn’t really sink in, she could understand enough to know her parents weren’t coming back somehow. Tears started to spill down her cheeks, she didn’t want this. Red smears were left on her face as she tried to wipe the tears away to no avail, shaking all the while. At the same time, the other men who had been present began to move her mother and father out of the house.

“Okaa-san, Otou-san”, she called out desperately. As she tried to get up and reach out to them, she was knocked back down.

“Don’t get in the way”, was all that was said to her before she was left, covered in blood and shaking in a corner.

Time seemed to go by so slowly; it felt like she had been there an eternity, feeling cold and drained. Somewhere along the lines, her tears had stopped flowing and she simply felt numb. Shivers still swept across her body, the previous red that had soaked up into her tunic now starting to turn a shade of brown, but she couldn’t move; something seemed to keep her rooted to the spot so she sat huddled in the corner, hugging her knees close to her. No one had come by since her parents had been removed; the floor was still stained red, the same colour as the horizon which could be seen through the door as the sun finished setting. Then a shadow passed across the floor, gaining her attention.

“Onii-chan?” Questioned Safiya, as she raised her head up slightly from her knees; looking at the presence now standing in the doorway.

“Onii-chan!”

“S-S-Safiya!” Tears started to streak down both their cheeks again, but to Safiya they seemed to be of a different kind. Relief? She wanted her brother; she wanted him to hold her and tell her everything was alright. Legs still shaking she managed to get up and threw herself at him, grabbing him in an embrace and refusing to let go; they sank down to the floor this way, not letting go of one another.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to leave you!” he sobbed out into her hair, whilst pulling her even closer to him.

“I’ll never leave you again! I’m so sorry”, he couldn’t stop apologising, holding her tightly in his embrace as if afraid she would run away from him, but she had no intention of doing that. Blame for their parents never even crossed her mind; she just wanted to stay here, with her brother who kept her safe, forever.

“Onii-chan” she sobbed back at him, pulling him as close as possible by his clothes, “Onii-chan!”

 

* * *

 

“Onii-san... Onii-san...Ja’far! Open your eyes!” Safiya called in a shout of a whisper, distress evident in her tone.

 The instinct gained from her years as an assassin was telling her to keep her emotions in check, but that tiny voice was pushed back into the recess’ of her mind. Buer had already started work on healing him, but his breathing was still shallow and laboured; little puffs of air just about being felt against her skin. His pulse was still weak and thready, though at least she could clearly feel it now against her trembling fingers.

Upon first entering the room she had believed it was too late, anguish replacing the anger she’d felt initially when there seemed to be no trace of life left in him, immediately wanting to kill everyone in the vicinity. He had been so cold to the touch, only feeling slightly warmer than the stone floor on which he lay; what remained of his thin Sindrian clothes simply not enough to keep out the bitter, wintry air that had been drifting through the barred window of the cell.

Carefully turning him onto his back she could, for the first time, take in the whole, horrifying detail of his various injuries and bruises. The largest of these, what appeared to be a stab wound to the abdomen, seemed to be the main source of the blood; quickly tearing some of the still white robes, she applied as much pressure as she could to try and stem it.

“Buer, please heal him! Quickly!” There was a slight shake to her voice, she could feel tears starting to well up but she needed to keep her head clear. A small light shone and she could feel the wound beginning to close under her hands.

Angling her body round more to his side whilst keeping the pressure on, she had placed her head on his chest in sheer desperation; letting a small wave of relief wash over when she had been able to make out a faint thump of a heartbeat, slow and dangerously weak, but there; his chest beginning to rise ever so slightly with barely the trace of a breath as the healing kicked in.

Now she sat cradling him in her arms whilst his biggest injury, and many smaller ones, were healed away entirely; numerous internal bleeds still being dealt with. Even through the thick clothes she was wearing he still felt so, so cold up against her as she hugged him closer. Safiya was desperately trying to share her body heat with him but he just didn’t seem to be getting any warmer, his skin white as parchment; a faint blue tinge to his lips. Pulling her kimono out from her sash, she wrapped the two sides around as much of him as she could and brought him closer to her body in a further attempt to warm him.

Her own heart hammered in her chest as she tried to calm down, a variety of emotions buzzing around inside of her, ranging from fear and frustration at how little she could really do for him, to anger. Anger aimed at herself for not leaving sooner to rescue him, to not paying enough attention when she released her extreme magic. However, she was most angry with Sinbad, whom she saw as the source of this whole debacle.

For now though, the most prominent emotion was fear. True, Buer could heal his wounds; she could even amplify his body’s functions for a brief period to give him a better chance at recovery, but as much as she wanted to believe he would be safe now, she knew that just wasn’t the case. Buer’s metal vessel could work miracles with any injury, poison or illness; however, she was not omnipotent and couldn’t replace blood that had been lost. Safiya realised he needed a real healer and quickly, but he was just too weak to be moved at the moment. So for now she just sat with her head resting against his, hoping to get him as strong as possible for quick transportation to Mercia, luck being with her as no one from Kou had yet come to check on their prisoner.

“ _My Queen, this is all we can do without exhausting your magoi. You must get him to a healer now”_.

“I-I understand” she stammered out. It hadn’t occurred to her until just now how much she was shaking.

“Onii-san” she whispered gently to him, “I’m going to get you some help now, so just hold on a bit longer, _please_ ”. She kissed him on the forehead and pulled him as close to her as possible whilst being mindful of his various injuries still to be healed. Quickly equipping her Djinn, Ose, they vanished from the room, appearing almost immediately in another. The inhabitants rose in shock at the sudden appearance of two people right in front of their eyes, after all it was still early.

“Safiya-sama!”`

“ _Please_ ”, she begged, “please save him!”


	8. Some kind of ‘lady’

Time seemed to tick away so slowly as Safiya waited in the same room she had appeared in earlier that morning, both her brother and the healers occupying one of the adjoining side rooms; this left her all alone for the moment. A slight buzz of noise could be heard from the other side of the door, but nothing definitive could be made out, so in the meantime, Safiya kept her fearful thoughts at bay by studying the room’s interior.

There was plenty for her to look at too, as she had barely spent any time here. When she had first been adopted into the family, she still harboured some serious trust issues and so had refused to be treated; instead preferring to deal with injury and illness herself. After conquering Buer she had simply not had the need to go see the healers, having never received any injury she couldn’t take care of.

Where she was currently was the main room of the medical wing in the palace, and as such, was where the healers spent the majority of their time. As with all other rooms in the palace, there was a high ceiling, with ornamental mouldings, the detail picked out in gold, standing out against the clean white of the rest of the room; matching ceiling roses surrounded where the simple chandeliers hung down.

Grand windows lined the side of the room opposite the main door, letting in plenty of light during the daylight hours; thick, white velvet curtains edged with golden detail draped impressively at the sides, currently tied back with golden tassels. Opposite to where Safiya was sitting (and to the right of the main door) stood an exquisite, white marble fireplace that took up a third of the wall; a gentle crackling accompanying the flicker of light.

On the opposite side were three doors, each leading off into a treatment room; Ja’far was currently in the middle one as it had simply been the closest to where they had appeared. The hardwood floor lay bare in this room; stains from one source or another being an ever present threat to any possible carpet.

Either side of the fireplace stood impressive cabinets that seemed to house a variety of dried plants and prepared medicines. They also housed an array of poisons that Safiya had, herself, concocted over the years _, because she needed to be prepared!_ Originally they had been in her room, having been prepared secretly in a little corner of the greenhouse whenever she had a chance. However, upon their discovery, the King had had them moved to the medical wing as it ‘wasn’t very Princess-like to use poisons’; _I’m sure the Princess in my country used them!_

 Large, sturdy desks were scatted about the bulk of the room, accompanied by matching chairs; the desks littered with numerous pieces of parchment that showed various research into better magical healing procedures and medicines, or new discoveries of plant properties. She had thought to look through these, to give her something to think about, but she didn’t want to disturb any possible thought process the healer had had before her arrival, or ruin them with bloody fingerprints.

Instead, her eyes drifted to the outside and to the gardens and the impressive palace greenhouses that lay just beyond where the healers grew all of their ingredients. The sun had finished rising; it was still early but she had started hearing the palace staff wandering up and down the hallways. Whilst lost in thought as she stared out at the gardens one of the maids came in to rekindle the fire, coming to an abrupt halt as her eyes fell onto the princess whom she had not expected.

“Good-morning Safiya-sama”, greeted the maid kindly, curtseying in the process. The palace workers had long since gotten over the possibilities of finding their princess where you wouldn’t expect her.

“Oh...Good-morning”, she smiled back, or at least, her mouth moved slightly in an attempt at one. What she actually managed to produce she wasn’t sure, but luckily the maid didn’t seem fully awake yet and simply moved on to her duties.

As the maid busied herself at the fireplace, the click of a door opening caught Safiya’s attention; one of the healers, the head physician in the Palace, was finally leaving the central treatment room, looking tired and weary. As she was about to stand up and go over, he held up his hands, gesturing for her to remain seated as he made his way over and seated himself just in front of her. Morgan Tud had been in the Palace for as long as Safiya could remember, barely having changed since she had first met him over 10 years ago. He came across as kindly old grandfather figure, but apparently back in his day had been known as ‘Tud the Stud’; if you looked closely you could see where they may have been coming from, _maybe_.

“We have dealt with the remainder of your brothers internal bleeding”. _Brother? How did he?... Oh right, I think I remember rambling something at them earlier._

“He’d suffered numerous broken bones, as I’m sure you’re aware of Your Highness” continued Morgan, “most of these are ribs, some of his fingers too, and his right arm was broken in several places”

“Several...places?”

“Yes”, was the only answer as the kindly old healer placed his hand on her shoulder, “but you would do best not to think of how these injuries came to be”. He was right, for now; at least, she would keep those thoughts at bay whilst Ja’far was healing, _and kill all responsible later._

“How is he?”

“Stable, however, as you know, he had lost a lot of blood and due to the conditions he’d been kept in, was suffering from hypothermia”. She looked down at the ground; dread starting to creep up her body; a knot appearing in her stomach.

 “I’m sorry, we’ve done what we can to aid in his recovery; however, all that can be done now is to wait and hope he responds. As a start we’ve covered him in blankets in an attempt to raise his body temperature, but he should be moved to a room with a fire”.

“Not a problem, there’s one next to mine that will do”, and then remembering that the maid was still in the room, turned round to add, “excuse me, could you please see to it that the room next to mine is made ready?”

“Yes, Safiya-sama. I will prepare you a bath whilst I’m there”, and with that she bowed and left on her way.

“A bath?” She thought as she looked down at herself, _ahh...right. I’m covered in blood fro-. No, stop that thought!_

“I’m sorry to say this, Your Highness, but you could do with one” Morgan added with a chuckle when he saw her looking down at her clothes, “it’s not just the blood”.

“Oh...I see”. _Right, I’ve been running around in armour. I wonder how badly I smell?_

 

* * *

 

With added reassurance from the healers that Ja’far was at least stable for now, Safiya sunk into the pleasantly warm water, washing away the dirt and some of the built up stress from that day. It was common amongst the nobility to have maids help wash you; some would have handled her hair whilst others dealt with scrubbing; apparently it was relaxing. Safiya did not find that relaxing in the slightest; after all, she had working arms and hands, so she could clean herself.

As she moved her hair so that it wasn’t being sat on and settled into a relaxing position, head leaning back against the rim, her mind began to wander to the thoughts she’d been keeping back. As she stared up at the ceiling, her first thoughts went to Sinbad, and her undeniable anger towards him.

As things stood she wanted to throttle him, no, to punch that stupid smile off his face and _then_ throttle him. _Honestly, what was he thinking, jumping into a battle like that? Stupid man!_ Not only was she fuming at him for her brother’s current condition (even if she could reason some of the blame onto herself), she also blamed him for her embarrassing behaviour in front of the other Sindrian General. _Spartos, wasn’t it?_ She thought back to him; he’d seemed quiet, but calm and pleasant, and Safiya had taken a liking to him.

_Ahh_ , she sighed out, _I hope he doesn’t think I’m some crazy lady. I bet Sasan’s women are nothing like me. I bet they’re all ‘ladylike’ and don’t destroy things; or tie up their guests; or throw things at their guests; or electrocute their guests, hah, all that’s left is to set him on fire......I should probably try and keep my anger in control next time we meet_.

Realising that that particular ‘next time’ might well be in the presence of one idiot King, it seemed like a good idea to vent her anger now, whilst she was alone, and try to let things go, for Ja’far’s sake too. He must like Sinbad; he clearly followed him for a reason, even if she couldn’t figure out why, and so until her brother woke up, she could probably just stay out of the way of him; and if he didn’t wake up. Safiya didn’t really want to think too far down that path, but she could be pretty certain that the red mists of vengeance would rise up and engulf her; she knew her emotions all too well to doubt that. _Yes, and he doesn’t seem like he would be too hard to kill, either._ Then she could move on to Kou, the ones responsible for his torture. _I wonder if Judar would join me in the destruction if I asked? I heard he’s into that sort of thing now._

The sound of life in the next room along brought her out of her thoughts; a good thing, too, as in the short time she had been in the bath, her mind had wandered down some disturbing routes. It sounded as though there were quite a few people, so it seemed reasonable to assume that her brother was being moved into the room. Wanting to be there when he woke up, Safiya quickly left the relaxing warmth of the bath behind, drying off as quickly as possible before heading to the dress.

She could see where the maids had been coming from when they had picked out this particular garment. True, Royalty would be visiting and she would be expected to make a good first impression, normally, but all she’d wanted was something quick and simple to get on. _I wonder what they’d have chosen if they knew how I ‘greeted’ him earlier?_ The dress was beautiful, but corsets were both a pain to get on (especially alone) and a pain to wear. They restricted your movement, your breathing, and were just overall uncomfortable; why the women of Mercia chose to wear them she had no idea, and so she only wore one when attending balls or for entertaining guests.

Luckily, she was still alone; taking this opportunity she instead chose a simple red and cream one from her wardrobe, or, at least, as simple as her attire ever got when not fighting. Thankfully, it laced up down the middle of the bodice so no help was required to fasten it. Not that Safiya minded looking feminine and pretty or even dressing up; it was just that some of the fashion trends seemed stupid to her. She did, however, put on the petticoat under the dress; it was just another layer to her, but it was the ‘done thing to do’ in Mercia and she did want to appear as at least _some_ kind of lady, _even if it is the scary, insane kind_. 

The centre of the bodice and the bottom layer of the dress’ skirt were a cream silk with a floral pattern picked out in cream embroidery. The outer layer of the dress which included the remainder of the bodice and sleeves was a red silk with a rose pattern picked out in red embroidery and edged down the centre in embroidered silver ribbon; lacing up with a simple ribbon, the same red as the dress. The long sleeves cuffed near the upper arm in the same silver embroidery, flowing elegantly out and falling down by her sides; the inner sleeved lined in the cream fabric.

Quickly getting on a pair of socks and some red and cream slip on shoes to match her dress, she grabbed her metal vessels as she exited her room, placing them upon her person. As her hair was still wet she simply plaited it to the side and placed the hairpin at the top. Usefully, the rose pin had little silver leaves branching off underneath which Buer could manipulate to hold the metal vessel in place regardless of its precarious positioning; a sort of teeny weenie Djinn Equip, if she had to sum it up to someone. Her other metal vessels were also silver with rubies inlaid into certain places. Ose was in the ring on her middle finger that matched her hairpin; a delicate, thorny stem made up the band; a small, full opened rose with a ruby inlaid to the centre finishing it off. Ose had been Safiya’s second Djinn after Buer and upon realising the vessels matched she had decided that, should she gain any more, she’d stick with a theme (so that they didn’t clash when worn).

Upon entering the room next door, the healers parted; bowing in polite respect to her. Ja’far had been placed in the middle off the grand, four-poster bed that was at the centre of the wall to her left; his clothes had been changed in favour of the long night-shirt that the men of Mercia wore when sleeping. Opposite the end of his bed, was the magnificent, white marble fireplace; detailing picked out in gold leaf which reflected back dancing red of the flames. Blazing out heat, it efficiently worked to heat the room, and hopefully Ja’far.

The room was an exact reflection of her own; white walls as with almost the entire palace, with gold detailing on the moulding and ceiling roses. More grand windows looked out over the private gardens, framed with deep red curtains; a rose pattern similar to the one on her dress picked out in gold flocking, and tied back with red and gold tassels. These matched the curtains of the bed, three sides of which had been draw to keep out any rogue drafts. The carpet that took up almost the entirety of the floor was a pale cream, with a border of golden thorns. Towards the centre were three large, red roses; golden thorns snaking between them and interlocking to form a circle.

“Your Highness, we shall depart back to the medical wing. Should you require anything please let us know. The maids have been instructed to keep the fire stoked, so you don’t need to worry about that either”, spoke Morgan.

“Thank you Morgan-san, and thank you everyone for helping my brother when I could not. I am grateful to you” she added with a small curtsey in their direction.

“Ah, no, please, there’s no need to thank us so much” one of the other healers piped up, Merlin, she thought his name was, _Morgan’s apprentice, I think?_ Despite not going to see the healers much herself, she was acquainted with them as most could be found in the library at some point or another and she loved learning new things from them. Merlin was relatively new to the Palace; despite only being 24 he had been picked for his abilities with magical forms of healing. Fair skinned and freckly, he had uncontrollable black hair that stuck up slightly towards the front; the rest pulled back into a short ponytail. Apparently he’d been the only healer in his village and had only left to learn more so that he could help them further. So whilst he was a bit of a clumsy twit sometimes, he had Safiya’s respect.

All of the healers simultaneously bowed even deeper in response to her curtsey. Usually this would make her chuckle; everyone was so polite here and as a child she had taken advantage of this on several occasions, trying to see just how low she could get them to bow. Today, though, all she wanted to do was sit with her brother.

“We shall excuse ourselves now” and they bowed once more, _really not necessary_ , she thought, and left her alone in the room with Ja’far.

A chair had already been pulled up at the side of the bed, but she instead sat on its edge. Ja’far’s arm had been placed in a sling; a temporary move until either the healers or Safiya could fix it. Moving some of the wisps of silver hair out of his eyes, she could take in the awful bruise that stained one half of his face; swelling had started to appear, making his eye seem less like an eye and more like a weird dimple. Placing her hand on his cheek she could feel how cold he still was, but on the plus side, the blue tinge from his lips was gone, even though he was still deathly pale; something that just made the bruise stand out more.

“Buer, can’t we heal that? I must have some magoi left that can be used”.

“ _.....Yes, my Queen, but_ only _that. You’re already at your limit”_.

“I get it, thank you Buer”.

As the a little light shone out from her hair for yet another time that day, she moved her body over to the chair and lay her head down on the bed instead, hand gently resting on the crook of his arm.

“Sleep well, Onii-san”.

As the bruise and the swelling disappeared before her eyes, a wave of dizziness took over her senses and her breathing started to get more difficult; her heart began to pound against her ribs in protest as the strain from magoi depletion started to take its toll on her body; weakness spreading through her until movement became almost impossible. Briefly she thought she heard someone call out to her, _Buer?_ Both her hearing and thoughts were groggy; she really had pushed herself today and this time the exhaustion was going to get the better of her; with that she passed out.


	9. Connections

_Stars twinkled cheerfully in the deep blue sky; the moon bathing the mountainside in an unearthly glow; the undisturbed village lying in semi-darkness, all but for a lonely, flickering little light._

Safiya let out a sigh as she leant on the windowsill of their house; the flame of the oil lamp dancing around in the slight breeze that swept through. It had been almost two years since she and her brother had started living by themselves but she still couldn’t get used to the long nights of waiting for him to return from his ‘jobs’. Sometimes he would be gone for days leaving her alone in their home; this time it had so far been three. It was lonely without him and Safiya was still uneasy when her brother wasn’t around, feeling safer with his presence. It was difficult for her to sleep without him, too; flashes of _that day_ still creeping into her dreams.

She was lonely during the day too, but since her training had started there had been less time to think about this; mainly she was just glad her mentor wasn’t Ja’far, remembering all too well what the ‘graduation ceremony’ was. This was also the reason she was trying not to get too attached to the people who _were_ her mentors. Instead choosing to wholeheartedly throw herself into the training; the naive child that she still was, thinking that if she could be _really_ good at this ‘job’ then she might be able to ease the burden on her brother.

So day in and day she was a good little girl who did as she was told and learnt whatever was asked of her. She even chose to have other weapons or knowledge (such as poisons) taught to her, for, as the ‘boss’ told her, “Make sure you’re prepared for any situation, then you can deal with whatever comes your way”. Safiya interpreted this as “Know as much as possible and you won’t get killed”, so that was exactly what she was aiming to do; the village had plenty of people who specialised in different ways of killing and the boss seemed to approve, and as long as he was happy no _extra_ harm would come to her or her brother.

Today she had been learning survival skills such as cooking, what you could and couldn’t eat, and sewing, apparently. Safiya didn’t asks questions though, she just learnt; she also didn’t want to ask how exactly sewing helped with assassinations, weird gory thoughts coming to mind (and her brothers scars). Safiya wasn’t certain how he’d got them, and he didn’t seem to want to mention it so the subject was never broached, but the sewing had brought them to mind; was that what she was being prepared for?

 

* * *

 

Light was creeping through her eyelids; the sun had risen and it was the start of new day. _When did I fall asleep?_ She couldn’t remember, but it seemed at some point she had slipped down the wall and nodded off. Quickly scanning the small space they called home she could tell that Ja’far was yet to return. A small sigh escaped her; today was a non-training day, too, so she had nothing to really occupy herself with. As most of the children in the village were still oblivious to the environment they were growing up in, _probably to make the final test harder_ , she had though to herself, training wasn’t every day; after all, they needed to keep up the appearance that they were allowing them a normal childhood. As such, she had been warned to keep her mouth shut when interacting with them.

Thinking that she might as well find something to eat, Safiya began heading outside, _I might be able to catch something in the woods_. As she was thinking that some of the village’s other children ran up to her, gaining her attention.

“Hey, Safiya! Want to play?” asked one of the boys. Rahim, she recalled, he was a couple of years older than her, from what she could remember. Gold eyes and deep, purple hair that had been hacked to shoulder length bounded around in her vision. Apparently most of Parthevia’s inhabitants had golden eyes and dark hair; Ja’far and herself being oddities; thinking back, their traits were from their mother, _Otou-san was like everyone else._

“Play?”

“Yeah, we were going to play hide-and-seek, want to join?” _I guess that has some practicalities, I can improve my stealth_.

“Okay...but I was going to find some food. Can we hunt first?”

“Hunt? Mmm, I don’t mind, but I know where we can find some berries. Wouldn’t that be better? Then we don’t have to kill” he added with a smile. _No killing?_ This gave Safiya a weird feeling; it wasn’t as though she enjoyed it either, but with a mentality like _that_ , in this village? Would he make it?

“That’s ok too”, she replied, returning his smile, _maybe I can help him understand later?_

That day she had fun; it was the first time since as long as she could remember. It was not that she wasn’t happy just being with her brother; he made her smile and laugh too, even if sometimes it was _at_ him and not with him. However, this felt different; as if for a moment she could really forget what her future held and was just a normal child. Hide-and-seek turned out to be good training for stealth, just as she’d thought, but playing it with friends was different; it was exhilarating. They were genuinely impressed by her skills too, unlike her mentors whom she knew had an ulterior motive when dishing out their praise.

 _Friends_ , she thought with a smile. Safiya had been keeping a distance from her mentors for a reason, and she had been using a similar reasoning to stay apart from the children in the village; simply, she didn’t want to lose any more precious bonds, choosing to close herself off from them instead. Today had changed that, _I’ll protect them instead, if they can just pass their ‘tests’, I’ll protect them after that!_ This gave her a new reason to train harder, not just for her brother now, she would protect as many of them as she could. They couldn’t escape from this life, the boss had made that clear to her a while ago, but maybe she could ease their burdens, _theirs and Onii-san’s_.

Feeling happy as they walked back to the village together, her attention was drawn by the doll that the other girl with them held. She had been playing with it the entire day, and Safiya wondered where she’d got it from.

“Where’s it from? Okaa-san made it with me when she was teaching me to sew” the girl beamed, clearly proud of their joint achievement. It was nothing special, to most at least, but Safiya was intrigued; the doll was clearly made from fabric scraps and had straw for hair; little seeds sewn on in place of eyes.

“Ohhh, that’s amazing”

“Nee, why are all those men in front of your house?” Safiya heard the other boy in their group pipe up to Rahim. Instantly she felt the heat drain from her as she looked up to where that boy’s house was; there he stood, the boss, just like on _that_ day.

“Don’t know, seems Otou-san wants me though. See you tomorrow”, with that he waved and ran off to his parents. Safiya was starting to shake, she knew what was coming and she couldn’t be near it.

“I-I’ll be going too!” she managed to get out to the two remaining children, “Onii-san might be back”.

“Oh, ok. See you later”. They both smiled and waved as she ran back to her home, which was unfortunately close to the purple-haired boy’s.

Ja’far was yet to get back, so instead she huddled down near the wall; pulling a blanket over herself and trying to block everything out. It started the same as with Ja’far; crying, pleading, hoping they would change their mind, but they never did. She could hear the other villagers encouraging him now, just like how they had encouraged Ja’far.

“No, no, no, no, please, I can’t kill them. Don’t make me”

She could hear him sobbing it out, but she knew the pleading wouldn’t get him anywhere. _I could do it for him, but what would the boss say? What would he say? Would I be protecting him? Would we be punished?_ _Would Onii-san be punished?_ Thoughts flashed through her mind, only being pulled out when there was a clank as something metallic hit the ground, _a clank, not the thud of a body_.

“Then you fail, worthless creature! Kill them”

 _No, don’t!_ It was too late though; their screams pierced the air, and then there was silence. Flashes of his hair and eyes danced around in her mind; his happy smiling face, gone, because he couldn’t kill his parents? How was that fair? He’d been too kind for this village. Tears appeared around her eyes; he’d been the one to ask her to play; she’d just made a friend, and now he was gone? _I should have pushed him to go hunting, maybe if he’d just got the hang of blocking out his emotions!_ Tears streamed down her face as she berated herself for not trying harder. She wanted her brother!

“Onii-san”, she sobbed, hoping he would suddenly appear and she could curl up next to him.

 

* * *

 

Another new day was breaking through Safiya’s eyelids; she had cried herself to sleep, wrapped up in the blanket. Ja’far still wasn’t back, she’d be worried but she could be pretty certain that if he died whilst on a job the boss would come and tell her; not because he cared, just because.

There was no training again today, but Safiya had no intention of leaving the house this time; the other children may ask questions and she didn’t know what to tell them. So instead she would sit in the house all day and wait for Ja’far who would hopefully be back soon, _maybe I should practice my sewing_.

Getting up she pulled out her newly acquired sewing supplies. They were nothing special but they served their purpose; a needle, some thread and a few scraps of fabric she’d been given to practice with. The question was what to do with it. She mulled this over in her mind for a bit before remembering the doll that the other girl had had with her; that seemed interesting and it looked like it should take some time, nicely filling up her day.

 

* * *

 

“Onii-san!” Was about all the warning Ja’far got before something small and silvery ploughed into him as he tried to return home.

“Oh look, his little sister greeted him. How cute”, she heard one of the older boys who had been with him saying.

“Fuck of you stupid fucks!” Safiya had to stifle a laugh; it was definitely funny watching her brother try to act tough, but she knew him better; he never spoke to her like that.

Drawing his attention back over to her she thrust something into his vision, “Onii-san, look what I made” she said, beaming up at him.

“Huh...What? What is that?” The look of confusion on his face as his picked himself up from the floor was mingled with something bordering on recognition as he leaned in closer to inspect his sister’s creation.

“I call him Chibi-nii!” Safiya announced whilst beaming. “It’s supposed to be you, Onii-san”.

“Me?”

“Yep! Don’t you think I did a good job?” Her face started to drop at the blank looks her brother was giving the doll. She looked down at it, she had tried her best.

She’d found some of the bandages he used to rap around his face and sliced them up into miniature versions. His clothes hadn’t been a problem; after all, badly stitched together trousers and what looked like an old blanket with a hole for his head were easy to copy. It was true it had no discernible hands or feet; the limbs just ending in stumps. However, she had managed to find some red thread and had wrapped it around them to mimic his wires. Not wanting to venture out she had embroidered little black circles onto the face for eyes; the hair being-

“Safiya is this _real_ hair” he piped up during his inspection of the doll that she claimed to be him.

“Yep, I used mine because it’s the same colour” she proudly replied as she waved the end of her plait in front of him, and sure enough, when he looked closer he could see that the ends of her had been hewn off with something.

 “But... Why did you make this?”

“Why? Because then I can keep the Onii-san that I love with me all the time!” She joyfully announced whilst beaming up at him, _I’m not going to tell him it’s because I’m lonely or that I get scared and remember that day; I don’t want him to think it’s his fault._

“Oh look, Safiya-chan made a doll of the chief! Oh, you got his cute side.”

“What did you fucking say!? I’m not fucking cute! Come here and let me kill you!”

_Vittel-nii never learns._

 

* * *

 

 

A gentle light made its way through pale lids; there was a pleasant fragrance in the air that made her feel relaxed. Soft sheets could be felt under hand and her head sunk comfortably into the squishy pillows. _Bed?_

“Safiya”

 _Ughhh, don’t want to get up yet._ Mind drifting around to what her tasks for the day were, the previous events came crashing back, bringing her into reality; eyes opening wide upon realisation that she was not where she remembered falling asleep.

 _I’m in my room. When did I get here?_ She thought whilst pushing herself up into a sitting position; a slight wave of dizziness passing over her in the process. _Ugh, I feel so tired._

“You’re finally awake I see”

“Aniue?” _How long has he been there?_ “When did you get back?” _It doesn’t look like its much pass midday,_ Safiya thought, glancing outside. “I thought you would be back around dinner”.

“We were, two days ago”. _Two days?! Uhh, he doesn’t look impressed by something. What did I do? Unless it’s just the Sinbad stuff still._ Images of purple hair and golden eyes played in her mind, caught by surprise when she realised the similarities between the King and that boy she had been dreaming about, _I wonder if that’s what brought those memories up?_

“-fiya..... Safiya”

“Huh?.... Oh, sorry Aniue, I just...remembered something. What were you saying?”

“I was telling you you’re an idiot”, _Huh?_

“What did you think you were doing, using your magoi up like that? If the maid hadn’t come in to stoke the fire when she did you might have died!”

“Aniue, I don’t think Buer would have let m-”

“I don’t want to hear it” he said, a slight pained expression on his face as he rubbed at his temple, _oh, I made him worry_. “I’ve confiscated your metal vessels for now; you can have them back when I’m certain you’ve recovered”

“Confiscated them?! Aniue, they’re not just bits of jewellery; they have people living in them” _People? Is that the right term? Oh whatever._ “What about my household? You’re rendering them ineffective”.

“I doubt they’ll need to fight in the next few days. Kou have backed off and they’re unlikely to attack with members of the Seven Seas Alliance here. Accept it Safiya, you’re not having them back yet”.

  _I’ll just have to find them myself then!_

As she was thinking about the possible places Arthur might have hidden her metal vessels; his office; the Kings office etc, she noticed a large bouquet of red roses and lavender on the bedside table near the window. The scent they gave off was pleasant and calming, but she didn’t recall them being there before.

“Did the maids bring those in?” she asked, gesturing towards the flowers.

“No, they are a gift from King Sinbad”

“HUH?” _From Sinbad? Why? What’s he after? Has he done something else and these are an apology? Is he planning on doing something?_

“Judging by the look on your face I think you might be over thinking them. Well, not that I blame you after what you did to him”

“You didn’t need to bring that up Aniue”

“Don’t worry; he doesn’t seem bothered about any of that. These are, apparently, a thank you for rescuing Ja’far-san. I believe he is also trying to clear the air with you”

 _Is that so,_ “How is Ja’far-nii?”

“Your brother is still sleeping but the healers believe he should wake up soon”

 _‘Your brother’? Ohhh, hehe,_ she thought as she watched Arthur glance over to the doll that was kept on her other bedside table.

“Aniue, are you jealous?” Safiya asked, a wide grin stretching across her face.

“What? No, I-I, we, we’re not jealous”

“We? I was only asking about you”, _I guess the others have heard too; makes sense,_ “Aniue, just because we’re not related by blood like I am with Ja’far doesn’t mean I see any of you as any less my family”.

“We know, it’s just, none of us would blame you for wanting to leave and live where he is.”

“You mean, move to Sindria? Oh, I don’t think that will happen” _I might actually end up killing Sinbad,_ “I enjoy being here with all of you, and, you realise I can visit him”.

“Yes, but it’s nice to hear it from you. Elyan and Safir were particularly worried they’d never see their ‘Onee-san’ again”, _Awww the little cuties._

“I’ll have the maids prepare a bath for you so that you can sit with Ja’far-san. I’m assuming you won’t stay and rest even if you’re told to”.

 

* * *

 

_Of course he’s here, so much for avoiding him._

“King Sinbad it’s....” _a pleasure? Nice? Good to see you?_ “You”. _Well done Safiya, of all the things you could say._

“Erm, I mean, I just wasn’t expecting to see you here”. _Thinking about it, that Knight is usually lurking in a corner somewhere; is he here too?_ As Safiya was thinking this something took hold of her hand.

“Safiya-hime, it’s wonderful to see you’re feeling better” Sinbad remarked charmingly whilst encasing her hand between his and gazing down into her eyes, _he’s so close,_ she thought as her face was reflected back by the pools of gold that shifted smoothly to her hair, “Oh, you wore the lavender I sent”.

“Ah-h, yes, thank you, the flowers are beautiful” _and they matched my dress. Or did I pick the dress because it’s purple?_ Whether consciously or not, Safiya had managed to pick out a cream dress with delicate purple embroidery and a purple centre; bordered in gold, _just like that hair and those eyes; I doubt he’ll notice though; it’s fine._ Looking more carefully at Sinbad, she also noted that colours she had picked matched exactly to his own outfit. _No wonder the maids were happy with the choice, I bet they’re trying to set me up with this one too_ , she thought with a sigh.

“Mmm, but they pale in comparison to your beauty, himegimi” he continued as he brought her hand up and placed a kiss on the back of it, a tingling sensation running through her body at the touch, before he released her from his grasp.

“.....Um..U-uh, thank you” she spluttered out, eyes drifting to the floor in slight embarrassment whilst holding her hand to her chest, _why am I blushing? Stop blushing, stupid body! Ugh, I should change the subject._

“Ah, your other General, Spartos-san, was it. He’s not here?” Safiya asked, looking around to check every corner, after all, he seemed to have a habit of going unnoticed.

She wasn’t sure but it seemed as though there was a hint of disappointment sparkling around in those golden pools when she looked back, though only for a second and it was gone.

“Ah, no. Spartos was asked by some of your Knights to show them his skills with a lance, and as it seems Ja’far will be alright he accepted”.

“Oh, is that so”, _well, at least I can’t embarrass myself in front of him again,_ she thought as she went over to her brother and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He was looking far better than when she had last laid eyes on him. His remaining injuries and bruises had clearly been healed by someone; there was some colour to his cheeks and his chest rose steadily as he drew in even breaths. Brushing some of the loose strands of silvery hair out of his eyes she could feel that he still felt slightly cold to the touch, _the fire needs stoking,_ she thought as she looked round.

“Your healers said he should wake up any time now”

“Mmm, I heard. I’m glad but...I’m slightly worried we’ll have nothing to talk about because it’s been so long”, unease creeping into her as she made her way over to the dwindling fire and started to add more coal.  

 _We were so close, what if it’s not the same?_ Were her feelings as she prodded at the fire with the poker, letting air reach the flames under the fresh coal. She was so lost in her thoughts that when she was finally brought out of them by a sudden hand on her shoulder, she jumped up in alarm; swinging the poker round in defence as her instincts kicked in, which brought with it fiery embers that flew out over to the source of the hand; King Sinbad. Even as she made to pull back, the little embers landed on his white clothing, igniting the fabric around the area they fell to.

_OH.MY.SOLOMON. I actually set him on fire!_


	10. Nostalgia

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean that!” Safiya called out in horror as Sinbad’s clothes began to go up in flames, shortly followed by his long hair.

He didn’t reply; too busily occupied with trying to bat out the fire that was attempting to engulf him; the thin Sindrian fabric turning out to be quite flammable as it spread quickly up from the bottom, catching more of his hair in the act. Time seemed to slow as thoughts rushed through her head. The clothes couldn’t be saved but what had suddenly hit her was just _how much_ metal he was wearing; the necklaces, the rings, all things that would soon warm up and leave horrific burns, if he didn’t get incinerated first. Without Buer she would be no use, she couldn’t heal. Acting swiftly, Safiya spun round and grabbed the nearest source of water she could find; a vase from the dressing table. Hurriedly pulling the flowers out, she threw the murky water over the King which, thankfully, put out the flames before he became badly injured, although, it left him smelling of a mix of burning and stale water.

His clothes were destroyed, leaving most of his legs and some of his chest bare; a sight most women would have swooned at but Safiya was just relieved to see that he had, somehow (hair not included), remained unscathed. The wave of relief washed over her, but left almost as quickly as it had come, guilt, regret and a sense of helplessness replacing it. She couldn’t move, just stand and stare at what she had done; both voice and thoughts seemingly leaving her.

Had the overall situation not been so serious already; Ja’far being critically hurt; _why_ Ja’far was critically hurt, and the fact that Sinbad was a King etc., Safiya may have found this situation at least somewhat humorous because he really did look a state now. Unfortunately, this was not the time and the stress, both emotional and physical, had finally reached its peak.

 Maybe it was just her, but time seemed to be moving slowly again; seconds ticked by, perhaps even minutes, she didn’t know, as she took in the scene before her, trying to form some coherent thoughts or just do _something._ As their eyes met Sinbad was on the verge of speaking when her voice finally decided to return.

“...I...I-I’m” the Princess stuttered out as tears began to well up around her horror-struck eyes, her head drooping forward to try and hide them; seemingly rooted to the spot with the vase still clutched in her hands.

“Safiya-hime it’s-”

“I’m so sorry”, she just about managed to get out quickly before a stray tear finally rolled down her cheek; setting the vase carefully on the table. “I’m so sorry”, she repeated; hand going up to her mouth to stifle a sob that simply couldn’t be held in any longer. She ran out of the room, dodging his hand as he tried to pull her back and tell her it was alright; that he didn’t blame her. Before he could call out to her again, the door had already been pulled shut; her hurried footsteps diminishing into the distance.

_I guess she’s not going back to her room,_ he thought with a sigh, knowing that it was only the next one along; she’d wanted Ja’far as close to her as possible. _I’m such an idiot; I wouldn’t startle Ja’far like that so why did I think she’d be different._

“I saw all of that, Sin”, someone weakly croaked out behind him.

“GAH!” he let out a startled cry as he spun round to find Ja’far, somewhat unimpressed, staring at him from the bed. He’d been so lost in thought, simultaneously thinking about going after Safiya and doing something about his clothes, that he hadn’t registered the stirring behind him.

“If I didn’t feel so weak I’d make you pay for that”.

“Ah, I think you’ve got the wrong idea Ja’far; it was just an accident”.

“Not the fire” he let out with a sigh as he tried to rearrange himself on the pillows into a sitting position, “the kiss on the hand. Don’t think I’ll let you get away with treating her like you do other women”. With this he shot Sinbad a fierce glance, or, at least it would have been fierce had he not looked so pathetic and weak, feebly wriggling around to get comfortable in the fashion of an upturned beetle.

_Oh, that._

“What do you take me for Ja’far”, he whined childishly as he made to help his friend move into a comfortable position, “I wouldn’t try something with my friend’s sister”, _at least not in the way you’re thinking. Although, what_ am _I thinking of doing? I should ask her about that metal vessel soon._

_...Hang on_ , “The kiss on the hand? How did you....You were still unconscious, weren’t you?”

“No, I was coming round as she came over to the bed; and I didn’t know for certain. _You_ dropped yourself in there; I simply guessed based on what I heard you say”, he got out as he sunk into the newly arranged pillows with a contented sigh.

_Ah. I guess he knows me too well._

“I opened my eyes just in time to see you catch fire. By the way, your hair’s going to need cutting, half of it has been burnt off”.

_Ahh, so it is_ , he thought with a sigh as he reached up to feel his singed hair, some of it crumbling away in his fingers and becoming nothing more than a smear of ash.

“But.... It’s like she said”, Ja’far continued as if his King almost being incinerated was a minor, everyday occurrence. “I’m beyond happy to have found her; to know that she’s alive, and a Princess of all things. However, losing her, it was so painful when they told me she’d died; she was the one thing that kept me sane all those years”, then seeing the look on Sinbad’s face and remembering how he was as a child added, “saner than I could have been. We were really close as children; I’m afraid we will have lost that connection so I pretended to still be unconscious whilst I got the courage to say something to her”. He added the last part whilst turning away to look out of the window; attempting to hide a faint blush of embarrassment.

“Is that...why you never mentioned her to me? To any of us?”

“Partially, however Sin, remember when we first met? You basically invaded my memories. I thought you knew enough, and she was the most important part of _that_ life; I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want you to pity me any more than you already seemed to; it would have been so annoying, and you can be annoying enough without adding anything extra”. Ignoring the slight look of hurt on his friends’ face he added with a feeble chuckle, “I think I threatened Vittel and Mahad with death if they ever told you”.

“Yeah, I can imagine child you doing that” _I can see it now_ he thought with a shiver. “Still, what about later on?”

“Then...Then, when I was happy to share with you, it seemed like I had left it too long and I didn’t want you sulking and feigning hurt at being left out, which you _definitely_ would have; in private if not in front the company’s employees”, he added looking at the mock outrage that was showing on his Kings face.

“However….I did tell someone else”, Ja’far said as he turned round to see the mock outrage begin to shift to slight disappointment.

“When Rurumu told me that she was pregnant and that I was going to become a ‘big brother’ I couldn’t keep it from her. Here was a woman who was not only willing to take me in as her own despite where I had come from, but she was going to let me be a part of her child’s life. At the time I felt like if she knew I’d already failed as a brother once she’d start to keep me at a distance from her and her family”.

He let out a somewhat defeated sigh as he recalled his child self, “I think I was still certain that everyone would just leave me, even you, I was convinced you’d regret taking me along. Rurumu was so patient and kind and said it was never my fault. In the end she promised she wouldn’t mention anything until I was ready to, but I imagine Hinahoho knows, and maybe Pipirika, although neither of them have ever asked me”.

At this Sinbad had to smile. To get Ja’far to open up like this usually involved a large amount of wine, and that always came with possible side effects of death threats and stabbings.

“I have never once regretted bringing you along, and I doubt I ever will. Neither I nor Sindria would be what they are today without you”

“Thank you, Sin. That means a lot, even if you are exaggerating”

Sinbad was about to reply that it was by no means an exaggeration, and that Ja’far had been what had got him through many a situation when a palace maid chose that very second to walk through the door. Presumably there to stoke the fire, she took one step in and froze at the sight before her eyes.

“Oh, hello”, Sinbad spoke kindly as he rose from the chair, having forgotten that it was not only his hair that had burned off not minutes prior, “I’m afraid I had a small misunderstanding with Princess Safiya and she left quite suddenly. Is it possible to send someone to find her? I’m certain she’d like to know her brother is awake”, he finished in his suave tone that turned many women to goo in his hands; charming smile as always lighting up his face.

Said brother was left to watch the usual scene unravel before him, though he perhaps had expected the women of Mercia to be somewhat more reserved. This maid, however, was taking in the full picture of Sinbad’s well-chiselled chest that was uncovered due to much of Sinbad’s clothes no longer existing. The action was not so subtle either, Ja’far thought from where he lay half sitting against his mound of pillows. Coughing slightly to gain their attention and end this ordeal, he added:

“And if you could be so kind as to find my King a bath and some befitting clothes, we would be most grateful”, whilst mimicking his King’s pleasant smile. Honestly, he hoped this could all be dealt with quickly as he could already feel the exhaustion trying to pull him back into sleep.  

“Ah, Yes of course my Lord. Your Majesty”, she added whilst bowing and hurrying back the way she’d come. Not, however, before giving Sinbad one last run over with eyes, Ja’far noticed, inwardly sighing and rolling his eyes before said man turned round. Really, he couldn’t take this guy anywhere!

“Incidentally, Sin. Whilst we’re waiting for the maid” _and my sister who you made cry_ went left unsaid, “What happened to me? Why do I feel so weak?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not much after seeing the battle with Kou. It’s a blur from there”.

_Oh.  Well at least he’s too weak to attack me._

 

* * *

 

Safiya continued to run out of the palace and into the gardens, not stopping at the concerned calls of ‘Safiya-sama’ or ‘hime’ from the various workers at the palace. She was tired, both physically and emotionally, and setting a visiting Royal on fire had been the final straw; she just needed to be away from everyone.

The place she wanted to be was far away from prying eyes; far away from the pristine floral displays and perfectly pruned hedges, in a place no one had ever found her in, although, she could never understand why as it didn’t appear to be difficult to find. Towards the back of the palace’s grounds was a small wooded area that reminded her of the mountainous Parthevian border. Old oaks grew here alongside a few horse chestnuts, yet whilst these provided decent cover for her to be seated on, what truly drew Safiya to this spot was the tiny purplish flowers that grew in between, and wild climbing roses that were making their homes upon the trunks. It was a place she had escaped to ever since she was a child as it reminded her of her brother; a place where the pleasant rose filled air helped to calm her emotions. It wasn’t quite time for the flowers to be in bloom, and the trees were only just starting to bud, however, the clearing still helped to calm her emotions, if only slightly.

When she had first come to live in the palace it was a place she frequented often for a plethora of reasons; fear, that they might be like everyone else and use her; anxiety, that they might change their minds and reject her, and depression, that she just wasn’t good enough; that she would always be a disappointment; the mistake the Mercian Royal family had let in.

However, they had been kind and patient with her; allowing her freedom and comforting her when she allowed; the trust that these actions didn’t contain an ulterior motive slowly creeping in. The time she had spent in this place had dwindled, especially after conquering Buer. She had finally felt like she had a purpose. Not just a purpose, but a way of repaying their kindness, and another chance to protect what was important.

_Who was I kidding, ‘Princess’? I’m just one big royal fuck-up!_ Her tears had dried whilst she had been running; the anguish and regret she had felt at first, replaced with numbness centred mainly on self-loathing; those feelings she had managed to squash down into the recesses of her mind, beginning to resurface, draining her energy. _Would Onii-san even want me back in his life? After all, he finally found freedom after I left; what if I was just holding him back._

“Ugghh!” Safiya let out a frustrated sigh as everything bad that had happened since _that man_ had arrived replayed before her closed eyelids. As she sunk forward, head resting on her knees, she ran her hands through her hair and felt the lavender from earlier; pulling it out to twiddle it between her fingers. _I can’t believe the maids were actually thinking of setting us up. I wish they’d understand, no one wants an assassin as a wife, let alone a Queen,_ and that was without taking into account the numerous times she had now hurt or threatened him. Not that she thought he didn’t deserve it; Safiya still couldn’t forgive the idiot for putting Ja’far in such danger. _His Knight, Spartos, too; how can he can he put his men into danger like that?_

_Still..._ _He was at least willing to put himself in danger to try and rescue him, so maybe he isn’t all bad...And he maybe didn’t deserve being set on fire... maybe_ she thought to herself in an attempt to try and consider something positive about King Sinbad. After all, he would still be there when she returned and had been, sleepy hugs aside, nothing but nice to her.

_Nice._ She sat up slightly in surprise at her own thoughts. Whilst she had been dwelling on her own actions and the start of all of this, she couldn’t honestly say she’d given his much thought. _That’s right_ , she concluded, going back to twiddling the lavender, _other than a few stupid decisions, he really has only been nice to me, and I’ve done nothing but hurt him. I should probably apologise, but how? Will he even want to be in the same room as me now?_

 

* * *

 

The pleasant afternoon sun shone down upon Mercia, little glints of silver shining out as the Kingdom’s elite protectors practiced, each honing their skills and trying to be the best. Amongst them, a bluer streak stood out from the rest; fast and accurate his skill attracted many to watch, with more asking to spar hoping to improve their own spearmanship.

Spartos had been happy to comply with the Mercian Knights’ request to observe and learn from his abilities with a lance; Ja’far was going to be okay and whilst he would have been content to remain, his King had assured him there was little reason to wait around for him to regain consciousness. Although considered a secondary weapon in Mercia, with the Knights primarily using a Longsword, Lances were still widely practiced with, the country even having a sport centred on the skill known as Jousting. The men here were almost as good as his fellow countrymen; he enjoyed the nostalgia this brought and he couldn’t deny that it was pleasant to be around other Knights once again.

Mercia also had another trait in common with Sasan, its religion; knowing this had given Spartos extra ease of mind during his interactions. Whilst the Mercians were a more easygoing people and could not be considered as devout as himself and his fellow Sasanians, many were vegetarians and the Knight system was similar, with them not only upholding the peace but also the faith. Instead of the strongest Knight becoming King of the country, he was instead given a high position on the King’s council as an advisor. The army and Knights were still lead by the royal family, but it wasn’t seen as necessary for them to be the strongest. These similarities were long believed to be because the two countries shared a common ancestry from hundreds of years ago, though the founding stories were from long in the past; facts were most likely obscured or forgotten so no one could be truly certain.

Spartos’ latest bout had just come to an end when out of the corner of his eye a silvery white streak caught his attention. It was just for the briefest of moments, but the colour of the silky material felt familiar to him, if not simply longer, _Safiya-hime?_ Somehow, none of the other Knights around him seemed to have noticed this; perhaps it had just been a trick of the light, however, he was pretty certain of what he had seen which begged the question, was there something wrong? She had been moving fast and if Spartos could be certain of anything, it was that Princess Safiya would not be away from Ja’far unnecessarily. He had seen it in her eyes the first time it had been revealed who she was, who she _really_ was, that no matter how much time may have passed since she had last been with Ja’far, she adored her older brother and her actions since had done nothing to dissuade him from that assumption.

Thinking about her strong familial bond with Ja’far only served to stir up his own emotions, however now, on a diplomatic visit to a possible new ally, was neither the time nor the place to let such emotions get the better of him. Spartos had already been finding it hard not to think about his brother too much; the Knights here were always smiling, outgoing and eager to learn, just as Mystras had been. Despite Mercia being a relatively closed off country, the people here were, as a whole, open and friendly regardless of whether you  were from Mercia or not; believed in their religion or followed a different one. The country’s seclusion came mainly from their ability to self sustain not their dislike of the outside world, a stark contrast to how Sasan had been before Sinbad had come along.

Putting these thoughts aside for now, Spartos made his excuses to those he was sparring against, with the reason being he felt it was time to find out how Ja’far was doing and whether his King needed anything. This was not a lie, those he hated; he would be finding out these facts in due course, just not from the source the Knights thought he meant, and luckily, the direction in which he needed to leave the training grounds also lead, partially, towards the palace. Hopefully he wouldn’t come across as suspicious.

Making his way over to where he recalled seeing the brief flash of white, he noted a small, well hidden path leading away from the palace. The trees and bushes here had been allowed to grow naturally, which had left the passageway almost completely blocked but for a small patch to one side that allowed access to the area beyond.

Pressing through the narrow gap, he came upon a small meadow like area which offered a pleasant contrast to pruned Royal Gardens he had, but moments earlier, been in. The little meadow was hemmed in by large trees and, barely visible through the gaps, the outer wall of the palace could be seen. The area may not have had the grandeur of the main gardens, however, just being there seemed to have a calming effect, and Spartos contemplated that it was nice to see nature being allowed to grow unadulterated.

The atmosphere was peaceful and quiet except for a few twittering birds, too quiet in fact, considering there was meant to be another person around. _Perhaps I really was just seeing things_ he mused as he began to turn and leave. Spartos would have liked to explore the area, however, the fact remained that this was part of the Palace and, either way, it felt rude to investigate parts of another person’s home without their permission. This thought had barely crossed his mind when something once again caught his attention.  

Through the bare branches of the numerous trees another quick flash of the same silvery colour had briefly caught his peripheral, and now, though high up, he could clearly pick out the cream and purple of a dress. Should the leaves have not been in bud Spartos knew he would never have noticed her presence, and considering the style of the Mercian dresses, he would never have considered that she could climb a tree; assassin training included. As it was, she was on one of the highest branches of the tallest oak in the area and at present appeared to be concentrating on something on her knee? In her hands? It was hard to tell from the angle and distance.

The question remained of how to gain her attention. Spartos was unwilling to stand too close as; after all, she was sat on a branch, in a dress, with her knees up… Should he stand too near, her modesty may be compromised. There was also the undeniably scary part of her personality that he witnessed before, though he was unsure if it was just his King who brought that part of her out, much like it was with Ja’far.  He also knew he had to act soon otherwise it would appear that he had just been staring at her. 

Gaining his composure he walked up as close as he dared; thoughts still on what exactly to say to begin conversation when he suddenly became aware that she looking down at him.


End file.
